The lights were out in the apartment, and it was
quieter than usual. When Mick and Tess were
having one of their parties, the entire floor was
awake. I’d always stop by when I got home from
work, wondering how they managed to get to their
own jobs in the morning after partying all night.

Mick was responsible though. When it came to

his daughter, she didn’t want for anything. But, as
the partying got more and more out of hand, I
knew my best friend was slowly losing his grip on
reality. Empty bottles and dirty needles littered the
coffee table. Lines of coke were ready for whoever
needed it, all while an impressionable teenager
slept in the other room. If she didn’t have such a
good head on her shoulders, she could have taken
advantage of a shitty situation.

She sure as hell didn’t deserve to be surrounded

by the partying and drugs, but there wasn’t a damn
thing I could do to change the way we lived. Mick
would never let me step in. He had it under
control. Or so I thought.

The hallway was lit by a night-light, and I heard

the toilet flush. Then, the floor creaked around the
corner. Something in my gut told me to take a look,
and when I did, I saw his hand on the knob.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I told him.
He held his hands up and turned around.
I should have known it was Jax.
“Where’s the bathroom, man?”
I pointed over my shoulder because it was

obvious. He’d been showing his face more and
more lately, and no matter how much he drank,
there was no way he could forget where the toilet
was. The place wasn’t a mansion in the suburbs. It
was an apartment in the heart of the city.

City or not, Mick never should have let Jax

back into his life. The guy was nothing but trouble,
and he wanted Tess. He always did. But, in that
moment, I wasn’t so sure Tess was the only reason
he kept coming back.

I got in his face with a warning that couldn’t be

ignored. “If I ever catch you near Winnie again,
I’ll kill you,” I told him. And I meant it.

The bathroom door opened, and Tess came out.

She had to hold on to the wall to keep herself
upright. I saw the way she adjusted her skirt and

bra and then pushed the sweaty hair away from
her face. Some guy I’d never seen before trailed
her, and I wanted to kill him, too. Not because I
was jealous. I was pissed off because my best
friend loved her, and she was more worried about
scoring dope than staying faithful to him.

Jax and Tess exchanged a look, something in

between friendly and I’ll fuck you later, and then
he closed the bathroom door behind himself.

It was time for me to leave. I couldn’t handle

that shit. The games. The bad decisions. The drugs
and drinking.

Mick stopped me on my way out and offered me

whatever I wanted from the table. I dealt with
enough of that shit at work. I didn’t need it. Didn’t
want it.

“I’m good,” I told him.
Then, I left and prayed. I prayed Jax stayed out

of Winnie’s bedroom and that nobody overdosed.
Because I was tired of reading about all the
friends I’d lost in the paper. Obituaries that told
stories about the good years or about the heart
that used to beat beneath the skin and bones each
had become. Nobody ever mentioned the binges,
the withdrawal when the money had run out, or
how many men or women they’d had to fuck to stay
high.

Addiction was ugly.
Ignoring it was even uglier.

But that was what I did every time I walked

away.

I missed the person Mick used to be. I missed

the guy who had sober conversations without
losing his train of thought or stopping mid-
sentence because he needed another hit. The one
who talked about buying a house outside city
limits, so his daughter could have more space to
grow up. God, he’d talked about that all the time.

Now, he merely existed in a hazy fog, and those

goals were long gone. I knew it was only a matter
of time before it all caught up to him, and he was
gone, too. That was how it worked around here.
And I knew, when that day came, I’d have Mick’s
back, dead or alive. I’d pick up the pieces he left
behind and make something out of them.

Just because his life was slipping away didn’t

mean Winnie had to lose hers, too. Maybe I
couldn’t control Mick. I couldn’t force him to quit
and get clean—not as long as he was controlled by
Tess, the most powerful drug on the market—but I
could fight for Winnie. I’d never stop fighting for
her.

One

Trey

“This isn’t how it ends, Winn. You’re not getting on
that stage,” I say to myself as I stare at the bar flyer
with Winnie’s face plastered across the front of it.

Ace told me I could trust him, but trust doesn’t

involve an underage girl stripping for money. He
has flyers all over the park, and because of him,
whatever anonymity Winnie had left is gone. In a
matter of twenty-four hours, he managed to turn
the sweetest girl in Carillon into trailer trash, and
she hasn’t even stepped onstage yet.

I failed her.
I’d thought I had it all figured out. That, if I

watched as best I could, I’d be able to shield her
from the wolves and keep them out of her room.
But this isn’t about Jax trying to sneak into her
room anymore. This is about her body and her soul
—the two most precious gifts she has left.

I wanted her to have choices in life. So that,

when she grew up, she’d believe she could go
anywhere and do anything. Nothing about Tess, her
dad, or this shitty trailer park would hold her back.
But, for Winnie to do something as insane as
dancing, her back must be up against a wall. And,
once I find out why, Ace, Tess, and whoever else is
involved will remember why I’m so good at my job.

When I pull up to The Whip, Ace is getting out

of his car. His head’s down, and he’s not paying
attention. My fists tighten inside my leather riding
gloves. Images of his smashed skull flash through
my mind. But a quick and painless death would be
too kind. He deserves slow and painful. What I
have in mind resembles torture because he deserves
to feel the sting of Winnie’s pain through every
inch of his body.

You can’t kill him until he talks, Trey. And not

until you find Winnie.

I take a deep breath and alternate my footsteps

with his. The pattern of my boots hitting the
pavement after his makes him slow down and
glance over his shoulder.

“What do you want, Trey?” Ace’s tone is calm,

way too calm for what he’s done.

I flip the shield on the helmet, so he can see my

eyes. As soon as he gets a glimpse, his posture
changes. This isn’t a friendly visit. I’m not here to
fill his pockets with money to pay for Winnie’s

shifts or to remind him to keep her fed. This visit is
personal.

I get as close to his face as I can, pressing my

helmet against his forehead. He stumbles in the
gravel and then squares his shoulders.

I’m not the least bit intimidated when I say,

“You could have any girl in Carillon on that stage,
Ace. Why fuck with Winnie?”

He shrugs, and that pisses me off even more.

Winnie’s reputation is on the line. It’s not like he’s
asking her to tend the bar or wait tables. He’s
making her get onstage and strip. That’ll change her
life more than living with Tess ever could. Because
one song underneath the lights, and what’s left of
her spirit will die. She’s an eight-count away from
becoming Tess.

“You’d better start talking,” I tell him.
“Because Tess said so,” he spits.
He’s so full of shit. There’s more to it than Tess.

She might be the headliner inside The Whip, but
outside those doors, she’s a dime a dozen, and
nothing about her is special. The makeup and
clothes are all for show—to cover up the person
she can’t stand to look at in the mirror.

“Since when do you do everything Tess says?

Last time we talked, you mentioned letting her go if
she didn’t get her act together.”

“Look, Trey,” he says, “it was a business

decision. I’m under a lot of pressure from the boss.

He’s talking about building another bar, which
means this one will get even less of his attention.
Once I’m the low man on the totem pole, I’ll be
forgotten. So, if I have any hope of surviving in this
business, I need some serious cash flow to keep his
interest. Tess is the biggest moneymaker we have.”

“Because she has no inhibitions. No morals.

And you know it.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “I’m not asking

anyone to date her. Just to watch her. And it just so
happens she’s the one they come here to see. But
she’s all banged up, and I told her, if she wanted to
keep her job, she had to find a replacement until
the bruises healed and the stitches came out of her
head—someone who could bring in the same kind
of money, if not more. I figured she’d either step up
or walk away. If she walked away, I’d find a
replacement on my own. But I got lucky, and she
stayed sober long enough to figure it out on her
own.”

“Her replacement is seventeen, Ace. Seven-

fucking-teen. Winnie’s not legal, and everyone in
the damn trailer park knows it. It won’t matter what
your boss thinks of the place or where you rank on
his list of importance when you’re shut down.”

“Who the fuck is going to shut us down when

there’s fresh pussy on the stage?”

My plan was to talk this through, but the second

he talks about Winnie’s body, my hands are around

his neck. The leather from the gloves widens his
eyes, and when he realizes I could end it right here,
in the parking lot, he starts to panic.

Before he passes out, I tell him, “If she’s

anywhere near that stage, I’ll kill you before the
cops get here to shut you down.”

Ace’s eyes widen, and he grabs at my wrists.

The more oxygen he’s deprived of, the weaker he
gets. He can barely keep his eyes open. “Okay,” he
whispers.

When I let go, he bends over and coughs so

hard, it sounds like there’s a seal in his throat.
There’s no use in going toe-to-toe with me when it
comes to Winnie. I’ll always find a way to keep her
safe. No matter what it costs me.

Ace isn’t done yet though. He’s a slow learner

and the type who always has to have the last word.
“What if Winnie wants this for herself?” he asks.
“Maybe she wants to be seen, and she’s done
hiding behind her protector.”

Stripping would never be okay with Winnie. Her

dreams revolve around paper and fabric, drawings
and sewing machines. If he knew her, the real her,
he’d know that.

“Fuck off, Ace.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “What else does Winnie

have going for her? This could be her chance to
make a shit-ton of money, move herself out of the
park, and focus on something better.”

That’s all I’ve ever wanted for Winnie—for her

to get the hell out of Carillon. As much as I hate to
admit it, Ace has a point. If she gets on that stage,
she’ll make more, if not double, than what Tess
brings in. She’s the perfect mixture of sweet and
sexy, innocent yet a little bold. Whether she can
dance or not, her looks are enough to keep
everyone entertained for hours.

I’m sure Tess fixed her up, and once those lights

hit Winnie’s face, I’ll lose her forever. I’ll lose her
to the money. Because, once she has money, she
can run as far away as she wants; she can be
whoever she wants to be, and she won’t need me
anymore.

“Face it, Trey. Right now, Winnie needs me

more than she needs you. Your money is nice while
it lasts, but eventually, that’ll end, too. She’s smart
enough to realize the only person she can truly
depend on is herself.”

My fingers flex one last time, and then they curl

into the tightest fists. I can’t get another breath in,
and little white lights explode in front of my eyes.
Ace senses it this time and backs up until he’s
against the front bumper of his car. The hood’s still
hot enough from the engine that his back burns
when I shove him down. The sight of him wincing
only makes me push against him harder.

“How do you fucking sleep at night?” I ask him.

“You have a daughter. What if that was her about

to step onto the stage?”

His eyes narrow, and I realize I finally hit him

where it hurts. He didn’t see it with Winnie, but
with his little girl, it’s a hell of a lot more powerful.

“I wouldn’t let my daughter within a mile of The

Whip in the first place.”

“Winnie’s not my daughter.”
“Okay,” he says with half a laugh. “If that’s how

you want to play it, then I wouldn’t let my
girlfriend near it either. I guess that says a lot about
you, doesn’t it, Trey?”

Without thinking, I reel back and knock him

square in the jaw. Defenseless, his head swings to
the side, and blood shoots out of the corner of his
mouth and onto my leather jacket. I take a step
back, and while I debate on telling him to wipe it
off, I let him stand up.

He digs into his back pocket, and I assume he’s

getting something to wipe the blood off his mouth,
but I underestimate Ace. I figured he carried, but a
knife? I don’t think he has the slightest clue what to
do with one of those.

“What now, tough guy?” I question with a

smirk.

If a knife is supposed to scare me, he’s going to

have to do more than holding it in the air.

“Maybe I should ask Winnie. She’s the blade

expert, isn’t she?”

“You motherfucker.”

I’m not sure how Ace found out about Winnie’s

cutting. She conceals it well enough, and from what
I can tell, she always cuts in the same spot—the top
of her thigh. It’s not something she talks about or
gives anyone a glimpse of, yet Ace somehow
knows. If I find out he so much as picked a piece of
lint off her polo shirt while she was at The Whip,
I’ll use his own knife to gut him.

I lunge at him again, and I’ve been in enough

fights to anticipate every move he makes with the
knife. He’s a shit fighter—all talk with nothing to
back it up.

“Ace!”
Tess’s high-pitched voice sends chills up my

spine like nails on a chalkboard. Out of the corner
of my eye, I see her and Jax rounding the corner
and walking across the lot.

Perfect timing.
Tess reaches into Jax’s back pocket, but I let go

of Ace and have my gun pulled before she has his
Glock aimed at my head. Ace knows he can’t
compete with guns, and his knife dangles next to
his thigh in his limp hand.

What’s left of this fight is now between me and

Tess. But neither Tess nor Jax realizes who I am
because of the helmet on my head. They’re still too
far away to see my eyes, and they haven’t heard
my voice.

I use it to my advantage and whisper to Ace,

“One word, and you’ll die.” And then I pull the
shield back down to cover my face and hide behind
it. It’s the only way to keep my identity a secret.

As long as I have a gun in my hand, I trust he’ll

keep his mouth shut.

My eyes are still locked on Jax and Tess. She’s

staggering, grasping at nothing, trying to regain her
balance. Jax realizes getting the gun out of her
unpredictable hand is more important than any
threat coming from me.

“Baby,” he says, “I’ve got it from here. Give me

the gun.”

She shakes her head, and her finger lingers over

the trigger. “Nobody’s gonna hurt Ace. Ace is good
to me.”

“Nobody’s hurting Ace. Right?” Jax looks at

me, and even though he can’t see my eyes, he
somehow thinks whoever’s under the helmet is
going to negotiate with him.

I lower my weapon enough to let Jax know I’m

not planning on shooting.

Ace works with me and says, “Tess, I’m fine.

Put the gun down. We can go inside and talk.”

“You’re lying,” she mumbles.
When Tess is high, she’s impossible to talk off a

ledge. But I’ve never seen her stick up for someone
else the way she’s going to bat for Ace. It makes
me wonder how involved he is in Tess’s life outside
The Whip. How much money is he really giving

her, and why? And what else is he involved in?

“Tess, come inside with me,” Ace tells her.
She licks her lips and wobbles over to him like a

lost puppy who found its way back to its master. It
wouldn’t surprise me if they were involved. That
girl will do anything if she’s desperate enough, and
Ace has way too many connections for her to ever
cross him. At this point, he’s her lifeline, the hand
that feeds her addiction.

Tess teeters backward on her heels, the gun still

held loosely in her hand. Ace exchanges a look
with me and then keeps his eyes on her,
encouraging her the closer she gets to him. But, no
matter how many times he asks her to, she still
won’t drop the gun.

If I had any sense, I’d rip my helmet off and

handle Tess myself. But the helmet is the only thing
that’s probably keeping Tess from blowing my
brains out. As soon as she saw my face, she’d do it
—without hesitation. That’s how much she despises
the fact that I’m alive and Mick isn’t. His death
wasn’t my fault, yet I get all the blame.

The door behind me opens and slams shut.
One of the bartenders stands there with an

empty box in his hand, frozen in place next to the
dumpster. “What the fuck?” he mumbles.

Jax, Tess, and Ace are focused on the bartender

when I spot Winnie running toward the building.
Her eyes are focused on the ground, and I beg her

to look up and see us before she gets too close to
turn around.

She doesn’t.
Her dress is too short, and her hair’s all over the

place, whipping around in the wind behind her. She
swipes at her cheek with the back of her hand, and
I’m pretty sure she’s wiping away tears.

As soon as she sees the leather covering my

body and the helmet on my head, she covers her
mouth with her hands. She knows it’s me standing
in the middle of the parking lot with a gun.

Run away. Please.
“Trey!” she shouts and sprints toward me,

crying harder the closer she gets.

No, Winn. No.
The second she hears my name, the calmness

that was slowly taking over Tess vanishes. She
looks at all the faces in front of her, and by process
of elimination, she narrows her gaze on me. “You
motherfucker,” she spits. “It’s you.”

My identity no longer matters, and I flip the

shield up, revealing my face. Tess’s manic laugh
bubbles out of her while Jax’s jaw hangs open.

Once the shock wears off, Jax realizes the gun’s

pointed at me again. Tess’s eyes smolder with hate.
She’s holding revenge in the palm of her hand and
that doesn’t sit well with any of us.

I feel Winnie by my side before I see her. But

her presence is always like some kind of spiritual

awakening. It’s just what she does to me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell her. She looks the

same age as me in that dress and with all that paint
on her face.

She overwhelms me with one look, and even

though I want to tell her how much I love her, I
shove my feelings aside like I’ve been doing for
months.

With a gentle voice and as much calmness as I

can muster, I say, “Go inside. Stay in Ace’s office
until I tell you to come out.”

“Tess is my battle. Not yours,” she says. “And

I’m not leaving you, Trey. I can’t.”

Like Ace just stabbed me with the tip of his

knife, her words cut through my heart and settle
somewhere in my gut. Maybe it’s how she’s dressed
or the way the wind’s blowing the hair by her face,
but it’s like she’s mine, ten years from now, and the
whole world knows it.

Winnie’s entire life is a goddamn fight between

good and evil. And there’s so much she doesn’t
know. If she did, she wouldn’t look at me the way
she does. She’d be as repulsed as everyone else.

“Don’t argue with me, Winn. Not now.”
“I fucking knew it,” Tess says. And, suddenly,

Tess can’t decide whom to aim the gun at. One last
look of disgust toward me, and then her attention’s
on Winnie. “Do you know how many times I’ve
thought about killing you in your sleep?” she asks

her.

Winnie’s breath hitches, and her mouth is so dry,

I hear her struggle to swallow.

“Nobody would miss you, ya know. You’re

fucking worthless.”

Ace is still behind Tess, on the hood of his car.

He holds his phone up so that only Jax and I can
see, and I pray that means he’s calling the police.

Jax exchanges a look with the both of us

because we all know Jax is the only one capable of
talking some sense into Tess right now. She respects
Ace, but she trusts Jax. Right now, trust is the only
thing able to keep Winnie alive.

“Baby,” Jax says softly, “do you hear the sirens?

The cops are on their way. If they see you with the
gun pointed at Winnie, you’ll get arrested.”

Though the threat is real, Tess doesn’t even look

at Jax. All she says is, “Then, I guess I’m going to
jail.”

“I won’t be able to see you if that happens.”
“Aw, will you be sad, Jaxy?”
Jax is getting nowhere with the nice routine, so

he raises his voice and steps closer to Tess. She
takes a step to her right, wanting the space back.
But Jax doesn’t falter.

He says, “Give me the gun.”
“She ruined my life, Jax.”
“You ruined your life, Tess. This isn’t Winnie’s

fault.”

“Everyone cares about precious Winnie,” she

says through gritted teeth. “The little bitch always
gets her way.”

Winnie winces, and I try to inch my fingers over

to hers. Just a little brush against her skin would
calm her down, but I can’t reach her.

Jax inches closer to Tess and then glances over

his shoulder to Ace. Ace motions to grab the gun
from her. Tess isn’t steady on her feet, and it
wouldn’t be hard to tackle her to the ground. I’d do
it myself, but I’m on the wrong end of the barrel.

Sirens wail in the distance, and Jax is running

out of time.

There’s no count of three.
No warning at all.
Ace runs and jumps on top of Tess.
Jax reaches for the gun, and as they wrestle it

out of Tess’s hand on the ground, it fires. I grab
Winnie, pulling her against my chest, at the same
time she wraps her arms around my neck and melts
against me.

“Everything’s okay, Winn. You’re safe. I won’t

let anything happen to you.”

The warmth she fills my soul with vanishes, and

in its place is an icy chill like I’ve never felt before.

My fingers are coated and then my entire hand.

When I pull back and take a look at Winnie’s face,
her eyes are already rolling back in her head.

“No, Winn. No,” I beg. “Please.”

I scan her body and watch as the blood seeps

through her dress and down her thigh.

“Stay with me,” I beg. “What have you done?” I

scream at Tess.

But Tess can’t hear me. She’s lying on the

ground, screaming at the top of her lungs, clawing
her nails into the gravel, while Ace and Jax fight to
restrain her. She’s so high, she has the strength of
three grown men.

The gun’s still pointed at us, only it’s now on the

ground in the dirt.

Winnie’s limp body rests in my arms. All I can

do is hold her against my chest and rock her back
and forth, like I did when she was a little girl. Only
this time, I’m not praying for her to grow up and
become the princess she always dreamed of
becoming, I’m praying for her life to a god I’ve
never had any reason to believe in.

“Trey,” she whispers, “don’t leave me.”
“I’m not, Winn. I’m right here. You’ll be okay.”
The sirens are a block or two away and I know I

have to get up and get out of here before the cops
see me. If they do, I’ll never see Winnie again.

“I have to lay you down now, sweetheart. Close

your eyes, and think about the beach. When you
open them again, I’ll be with you. I promise.”

“No,” she whispers. Her breaths are coming

slower and slower. Her eyelashes flutter as she
fights to stay awake.

The pool of blood surrounding her grows, and

there’s not a damn thing I can do to help her.

With every ounce of strength I possess, I stand

up and run toward my bike. If I look back, I won’t
be able to leave, so I don’t.

Tess is still screaming.
Jax and Ace are still holding her down.
And Winnie’s dying.
As I gun it out of the parking lot on my bike, I

try to convince myself I’m not running. I’m leaving
to protect her.

Two

Jasper

A single gunshot ricochets through the trailer park,
rattling my eardrums. There’s no mistaking the
sound for a car backfiring or fireworks leftover
from the Fourth of July. The pop is life and death,
and around here, it’s usually death.

The closer I get to The Whip, the more sweat

pours down my forehead and onto my face. The
soles of my sneakers pound so hard against the
pavement, the vibrations snake up my legs and all
the way into my arms. Somehow, I manage to run
the three-quarters of a mile more like the hundred-
meter dash.

But, as I round the corner and spot the

commotion, I can’t make sense of it at first. Trey’s
peeling out of the lot on his motorcycle, and he
doesn’t even glance over his shoulder as he pulls
away. Jax and Ace are on top of Tess, shouting at

each other. In between cuss words, she wails and
kicks her legs like she’s in a pool of water.

Jax runs his hand through his beard and then

restrains her arms the best he can. She punches the
ground and pulls at her hair. It’s like watching a
wild animal, but I know it’s just the drugs in her
system, making her crazy. Once the high wears off,
she’ll calm down and forget about why she was
upset in the first place, just like she always does.

I can’t make sense of what’s happening. All I

know is that something’s wrong—really, really
wrong. My muscles are so tensed up, I can barely
get my body to move.

I say Ace’s name twice before he hears me. His

shirt is soaked with sweat, and his face is bright red.

“Get the hell out of here,” he says. “You can’t

be here.”

When I turn my head, I take a swift punch to

the gut. Something clicks, and I realize the girl on
the ground that I’m staring at is Winnie.

“Is she dead?” I ask in a voice I don’t even

recognize as my own.

Ace lets go of Tess and stands up. He grabs my

arm with his sweaty hand, and I pull it out of his
grip. I’m scared of what I’ll find when I get there,
but I walk toward Winnie anyway, one cautious
step after another.

Run, I tell myself.
Do something.

Move faster.
Help her.
But my body doesn’t listen to my brain.
“Jasper, for once in your life, listen to me. Go

home, and if anyone asks, you weren’t here.”

He roughly pushes me backward, and I almost

stumble, but he grips my elbow before I fall. My
whole body is shaking, and I can’t take my eyes off
the growing bloodstain coating the parking lot
around Winnie.

“M-mom has Lydia. I didn’t leave her alone.”

My teeth are chattering, and the only way to get
them to stop is to mash my lips together.

Jax lets go of Tess, rips his T-shirt over his head,

and then uses it to tie Tess’s arms behind her. She’s
too strong for him without Ace’s help, and it’s the
only thing to keep her from hitting him in the face
over and over.

She screams like she’s in pain, but I don’t think

Jax is hurting her.

“Where are the fucking cops, Ace?”
The sirens sound close, and finally, a cruiser

speeds down the alley. As soon as it stops, two
officers run toward Jax and Tess. Because of Tess’s
loud wails, neither officer sees Winnie at first. But,
as soon as they do, they’re on the radio, giving
word for backup.

Ace and I were in a car accident once. It was

pretty bad, and both cars were all mangled up.

Since it was late at night, a ton of cops showed up,
and Ace got a Breathalyzer even though he’d only
had one drink. They interviewed us, too. To make
sure our stories all matched. The whole situation
played out like in the movies. I guess you could say
it was organized chaos.

But an accident isn’t the same as a crime. This is

ten times more intense than that car accident, and
as I watch the ambulances pull up and cop car after
cop car surround the scene, I wish it were more like
that accident and less like this crime.

I bend down and reach for Winnie’s hand before

she’s encircled by strangers. I want her to know
that I’m here. That, no matter what happens to her,
I care enough to stay. In case she’s already gone, I
look up into the air above her and search for angel
wings, but I don’t see anything.

Two people turn into six and then ten, and I’m

pushed out of the way and taken to one of the cop
cars. I walk sideways the whole way there, unable
to take my eyes completely off Winnie. When she’s
completely surrounded and I can’t see her body
anymore, I focus on the edge of her shoe barely
sticking out. I try to forget about the fact that it
hasn’t moved once since I’ve been watching it.

The officer with dark hair and eyes stands in

front of me. His lips are moving, but the words
coming out aren’t making it to my ears. Like I’m
underwater, every sound is muffled, and all I can

do is concentrate on the red and blue lights
ricocheting off the white building. They go around
and around every second, chasing the sirens as they
spin.

“…crime…”
“…assault…”
“…weapon…”
“…shock…”
“…gun…”
What happened to Winnie? How did she get

between a gun and a bullet?

I lick my lips and swallow, and then I stare at

the officer. Even though I have no idea how this
happened, there’s really only one thing I need to
know. “Is she dead?”

As soon as I say it, I realize I don’t want to hear

the response.

“They’re doing all they can,” he tells me. “Is

she your sister? Friend?”

“She’s Winnie,” I tell him. “She’s my girl—” I

stop myself.

She’s only my girlfriend in my head. I’ve never

had the courage to actually ask her. I thought, if I
waited long enough, it would happen on its own.
But, now, that might never happen.

The officer listens to me and jots down pieces of

what I’m saying onto his notepad. “Keep going,” he
says. “Any information you have will help your
friend.”

I tell him about the trailer, how I was

babysitting,

and

how

Winnie

came

unexpectedly. The officer asks about her mood,
what she said, and how she acted when she left. I
tell him every detail I can remember—the way her
lips quivered as she spoke, how upset she was
about going to The Whip, and that I was scared she
was about to do something she’d regret. I told him,
if I hadn’t been with Lydia, I would have run after
her and taken her home with me, so she wouldn’t
have to get on that stage and take her clothes off.
He seems surprised about the dancing but only for a
split second. Then, his emotions disappear, and he’s
stone-cold again.

“Tess and Jax aren’t good people,” I tell him.
Maybe he goes to The Whip and already knows

that for himself. A lot of guys his age spend nights
there. All my time gets spent in the kitchen, so I
never see any faces I’d remember.

“I believe they’re known at the station.”
Known.
It doesn’t surprise me. Someone in Carillon is

always in trouble. Maybe that’s why Winnie’s
always worried about the cops being at her house.
There’s a chance this officer has been inside
Winnie’s trailer. It’s a stupid thing to get jealous
about, especially at a time like this, but I am. I want
Winnie to trust me enough that she lets me see both
the good and the bad.

Suddenly, the crowd of people around Winnie

stand, and she’s being pushed into the ambulance
with her body strapped to an orange board and little
wires stuck all over her. One medic is holding a bag
of clear liquid in the air, and I follow the line all the
way into her arm. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever
seen, but it means she’s alive.

I take a step around the officer, and he grabs my

shoulder.

“I need to see Winnie before they put her in the

ambulance.”

He seems satisfied with the information I gave

him and hands me his card. “Give me a call if you
remember anything else, okay?”

I don’t answer him because, when I turn round,

I see all the people who have gathered around The
Whip. The usual night crew is standing in the lot,
and the alley’s full of nosy people from the park,
trying to get a look at Carillon’s latest drama.

I manage to push through a line of people being

held back by yellow tape, and then I duck under
the barrier set up to keep people away from the
ambulance.

“Winnie!” I yell, unsure if she’s awake or still

passed out.

I’m steps from the back of the ambulance when

a female officer grabs my arm and tries to pull me
back onto the other side of the tape. I pry her
fingers off my skin and spout off a bunch of

nonsense about how I belong here. Who the hell
says they belong on the scene of a shooting?

When she won’t listen to me, I grab her arm like

she grabbed mine, and tell her, “She’s my girlfriend.
Let me see her. I was just with this officer.”

I hold up the card he gave me, and her eyes

soften the slightest bit.

“Stay with me,” she says.
I nod and then let her lead me toward the

ambulance. The EMTs slide the gurney into the
back, and I barely catch a glimpse of Winnie’s
cheek before the doors close. I didn’t get to touch
her, couldn’t talk to her, nothing. And, just as I
press my palms against the window, trying to peek
inside, the ambulance pulls away.

“Why are you still here, Jasper?” Ace’s hand

grips my shoulder and squeezes.

All the tension has drained his voice of emotion,

and I can tell he’s barely holding it together.

He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“A cop interviewed me, and I didn’t get to see

Winnie.”

The ambulance turns the corner, and we watch

the colors from the lights dance off the building.
Winnie’s on her way to the hospital, and I have no
idea if I’ll ever see her again. The last words I had
with her were about The Whip, not about how
much I cared about her. If I had been able to stop
her from leaving or convinced her to stay until my

mom showed up to watch Lydia, she never would
have run into the path of that gun.

Another round of screams surrounds Tess and

Jax. We watch as they’re each placed in separate
cars with their arms bound behind them.

“Did Tess shoot her, Ace?”
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Tess isn’t coming back.

She’s going away for a long time.”

I thought things were as bad as they could get,

but if Tess gets locked up, I’ll never see Winnie
again. Even if she survives, it’ll be like she didn’t.
They’ll ship her off to some foster home, and she’ll
become the property of the state.

“We have to get her back, Ace.”
“Talk to Trey,” he tells me. “I have enough to

fix around here tonight. It’ll be a miracle if I still
have a job in the morning.”

Trey left for a reason. He’s calculated, and I

guess that comes with the territory. Nobody
actually knows what he does or where he goes at
night. They just know he’s out there, always
watching and waiting.

That’s why I have to find him.
Trey’s my only hope to keep Winnie in Carillon.
And that hurts almost as much as seeing her on

the ground in a puddle of blood. Because I know
she loves him.

Three

Jasper

When my grandpa died, I thought a lot about what
death was like. I hadn’t thought much about it
before then. I mean, I knew it was inevitable, that
we all eventually had to pass from this life to
something else.

But what happens in those moments between

life and death? Is it cold and unforgiving when the
body shuts down, organ by organ? Or do angels
carry us to the clouds before we feel an ounce of
pain, just like we learned in Sunday school?

For me, both are hard to think about in any real

sense. I guess I can’t imagine my mind ever not
functioning. Every second of every day, I’m
thinking, and for that to end, wouldn’t my soul
have to be gone, too?

Maybe.
Probably.

I don’t know.
Seeing Winnie on the ground took me back to

that night when my grandpa passed away. It was
one of those nights that felt like it was over in a
minute or two, yet it somehow managed to stretch
on for hours.

I wasn’t ready to live a day without him, and he

wasn’t ready to leave me either. But, as the rising
and falling of his chest slowed, I realized I had to
be the one to let go first. I leaned down and
whispered in his ear that I’d be okay without him.
That was a lie, but I said it anyway, so he could
have some peace. And, as soon as he heard my
words, his eyes closed, and he sucked in a couple
of breaths, gasping quickly after each one. Lips
parted, he pressed his lids closed like he was in
pain, and once his lashes met his cheeks, his eyes
never opened again.

I thought it was over, that he’d died, but his lips

lifted into a smirk, and he smiled. There was no
way to tell if that smile was his last moment of life
or his first taste of death, but I knew I’d never
forget the peacefulness that surrounded me during
those few seconds. That tiny smile meant he wasn’t
suffering.

Whatever happens during those final moments

between the edge of heaven and earth, I hope
they’re that peaceful for everyone. If Winnie’s
headed there now, I hope her dad’s waiting for her,

welcoming her with open arms. And, if it’s not her
time, I hope he gives her back to us and convinces
her to stay with me forever.

“She’ll be okay,” I tell myself. “She has to be

okay.”

But there was so much blood. Too much blood.

That’s why I have to get to the hospital before it’s
too late. Because the difference between a minute
and a second could be the difference between
seeing Winnie alive or dead.

After ducking under the yellow tape surrounding

The Whip, I take one last look at the pool of blood
staining the parking lot and say a silent prayer that
Winnie still has enough life left inside her to make
it.

I say two more prayers in the time it takes the

bus to pull up. As soon as the doors open, a slew of
half-drunk men file off, completely unaware that
their favorite drinking hole has been shut down for
the night. I’m sure the shooting’s all over the news
by now, but I’m too afraid to check my phone for
any updates. If Winnie’s gone, I want to find out
from a doctor. Not on some app that delivers the
facts without caring who they hurt or whose life
they change.

She’s not dead, Jasper. Winnie wouldn’t leave

without saying good-bye.

I pick a seat in the middle of the bus, and as

soon as my butt hits the hard plastic, my knee starts

to bounce. If Winnie wakes up in the back of the
ambulance, she will probably be so scared. She’s
the toughest girl I know, but she has more secrets
than a magician. All it’ll take is one nurse or doctor
to get too close or ask the wrong question, and
she’ll panic. I’ve seen her shut down. Her turquoise
eyes zone out, and her entire body drifts through
some dark nightmare. They won’t know how to pull
her out of it.

The bus jerks forward, and I grip the metal bar

on the back of the seat in front of me. There are at
least five or six stops before mine, and everyone’s
moving so slow, like they have no place to be.

Maybe it’s the fumes that blow through the bus

when the doors slam shut, or maybe I’m slowly
losing it, but I grip the seat so hard, my knuckles
turn white. There are plenty of open seats around
me, but an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair
insists on sitting in the seat next to me. Even the
driver finds it odd, as his eyes meet mine in the
rearview mirror.

“You look worried,” she says.
“I’m on my way to the hospital. My friend

was…” I can’t say the words out loud to finish my
sentence.

It’s like, if I say them, it’ll mean it’s really

happening. Winnie has a bullet inside her body.

“Your friend was injured?” she questions the

way a mother would.

“Yes. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t know

anything.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Loosening my grip on the chair, I crack my

knuckles and rub my sweaty palms on my shorts a
couple of times. I have to get my shit together
before I get to the hospital. They’ll never let me see
Winnie if I’m freaking out. And, when she sees me,
I need to be calm for the both of us.

When I don’t answer her, the woman presses me

further. “Do you need a place to go? There’s this
group home on Edgemore. They’ll keep you for a
night or two until you figure things out.”

“No,” I whisper. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just

trying to get to the hospital.” That’s when I realize
she’s wearing scrubs and likely works there.

“What happened? Sometimes, it helps to talk

about it.”

“My girl’s dying.” Why I chose those words,

I’m not sure.

I could have told her there was an accident or

the truth—that Winnie was shot. Instead, I gave the
worst-case scenario. Maybe I’m trying to prepare
myself for the news I might get once I get to the
ER, or maybe it’s Winnie sending me some kind of
signal from the other side. But she’s in trouble, and
this time, there’s nothing I can do to help her.

The woman loosens the colorful scarf around

her head. Little wrinkle lines by the corners of her

eyes pop out along with a scar on the side of her
face. For a split second, it’s all I can focus on, and I
think about the marks on Winnie’s leg. There’ll be
new scars from the bullet, inside and out, and the
trauma might be too much for her to carry around.

How much pain can one person endure before

they give up?

The woman reaches for my hand. I didn’t realize

I was gripping the seat again. She pries my fingers
off, one by one, and then takes my hand in hers.

“I’ve worked at the hospital for thirty-two

years. I’ve seen the best, and I’ve seen the worst.
Life and death, there’s a very fine line, but if she’s
in trouble, they won’t give up until every last
option is exhausted. You’re one of those options.”

“Me?”
“Yes, your girlfriend needs everyone she loves

praying for her.”

“You believe in prayer? I said one back at the

bus stop, but I don’t think God heard me or
anything.”

“How do you know that? For all you know, your

prayer is being answered as we speak.”

“I don’t want her to die.”
“Then, choose to believe,” she says so easily.
Choose to believe.
I shouldn’t tell lies if I’m asking for help.

“Winnie’s not really my girlfriend. I just want her
to be.”

A little chuckle slips out of her mouth, and she

tries to hide her smile. “God forgives, son. He
won’t hold a little white lie against you.”

Son.
I haven’t told my own mother what happened at

The Whip or where I am going. I left her with Lydia
and took off. She probably has no idea Ace is being
interviewed at the police station or that he could be
in a lot of trouble, especially if they shut down The
Whip for good. He’s gotten warnings in the past
about cleaning the place up and keeping the drugs
out.

I thought he was doing good—until I started

working there. That was when I saw how bad it
really was, how messed up people’s lives are. They
might keep it hidden behind closed doors, but you
can still see the damage.

Ace has always been too good for a place like

that. But he got caught up in the dollar signs, like
the rest of them. Add a little girl with a mother who
took off to the mix, and what choice did he really
have? He wants the world for Lydia, and working
at The Whip gives him the kind of money he needs
to save for her future.

What kind of future will she have if he’s behind

bars?

“Fuck, everything is so messed up.”
“Just breathe,” she whispers. “We’ll get you to

the hospital, and then you’ll figure the rest out from

there.”

I hope she’s right.

Four

Jasper

The woman from the bus walks me into the hospital
and guides me toward the emergency room. I’m
glad she knows where she’s going because, even
though the bright red arrows point me toward the
department, all the words and letters on the signs
start to blur. I don’t even realize I’m crying until
the dampness hits my cheeks.

When the hallway ends, I’m left staring at a

metal detector, like we’re at the airport. I empty my
pockets and walk through, swiping beneath my
eyes to get rid of the weakness leaking from them.

The woman follows behind me and then points

to the desk. “Check in with the receptionist first.
Then, I want you to sit down and get your head on
straight before you see her.”

“It’s fine. I’m good,” I tell her.
But she knows better. I’m not okay. Not even a

little bit.

“What if Winnie doesn’t make it?” I ask her as I

wait in line.

Her jaw tenses, and she takes my hand in hers,

squeezing it the way my mom would. “We can’t
think like that. Believe in the best possible
outcome, and there’s a better chance it’ll happen.”

The best possible outcome would be starting this

entire day over, so I could erase the sound of the
gunshot from my memory. That way, Winnie would
never know what a bullet felt like as it tore through
her body. Her DNA wouldn’t be lying in a puddle in
the parking lot of a shitty bar where people were
probably more concerned about the beer they were
missing out on than the life that could have been
taken.

If I could go back in time, I’d go all the way

back to the morning when we woke up next to each
other—when I had her in my arms and the only
thing we had to worry about was time. Time before
my mom found her in bed with me. Time before
Tess noticed she wasn’t in the trailer. A bunch of
perfect seconds that added up quickly and showed
me what I could have with Winnie.

“Thank you,” I tell the woman. “For getting me

this far.”

She nods, and then I take a step toward the

desk. The woman in front of the computer finishes
what she’s doing, and when I take a nervous glance

over my shoulder, the woman’s gone. I didn’t get
her name, the department she worked in, or
anything that would help me find her. I didn’t even
get to say good-bye.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asks.
She blinks a couple of times, and I realize I’m

staring, looking through her instead of at her.

I try to say Winnie’s name, but it takes a couple

of seconds to form the syllables. “Winnie Dawes.”
My palms are damp, and they stick to a piece of
paper lying on the counter. Seconds from now, I’ll
find out the truth.

“Just a minute. Let me look.” Her long nails

clack against the keys, and I swear, she types ten
more letters than she needs to.

Isn’t there a list or something?
She bites her lip and tries something else, and

my stomach flip-flops.

If Winnie’s gone, how will I go home? Every

time I look out my bedroom window, I’ll see the
trailer. When school starts in a couple of weeks, the
familiar sight of her fighting with her combination
lock each morning will disappear. And that shy
smile of hers will be missing from the end of my
day.

“It doesn’t look like she’s a patient in the

emergency department anymore. Do you know
when she was brought in?”

If I wasn’t holding on to the counter, I’d be on

the ground. “Maybe an hour ago. Does that
mean…is she…” I can’t say the words, so I say
something else, “Could she be somewhere else?”

More typing, and then the girl’s eyes brighten.

“Here she is. She’s an inpatient now. You’ll want to
wait for her in the surgical waiting room on the
fourth floor. They’ll be able to tell you more once
she’s out.”

Surgical waiting room. Fourth floor. Surgery?
“Thank you.” I turn toward the double doors,

step inside the first elevator that opens, and press
the number four.

I wish I still had the woman from the bus with

me because there’s nobody at the desk when I get
off the elevator. The sign on the counter says to
sign in and take a seat, so I scribble my name next
to Winnie’s on the clipboard, and then choose one
of the couches by the window. It’s dark outside,
and I can’t see anything but my own reflection. I
look as bad as I feel.

Then, I take a look around the room and realize

I’m the only one who’s going to come here, looking
for Winnie, the only person who even knows she
was shot. She doesn’t have a mother or a father
huddled in the corner, saying prayers. No sister or
brother screwing around on their phones while they
wait for news. All Winnie has is a stepmother being
processed at the county jail for shooting her. We’re
in this situation because of Winnie’s family.

Minutes turn into hours, and each time someone

wearing scrubs gets close, I lift my head, hoping it’s
news about Winnie. But nobody comes. I even get
up to look around, just in case there’s someone
waiting that I didn’t see come in—a distant relative,
a cousin, a neighbor, anyone. There isn’t.

Her surgery continues through a shift change,

and a new receptionist sits behind the computer.
The one finishing her shift points to me and then
whispers to the new girl. I’m not sure what she
says, but at least they know I’m still waiting. By
two in the morning, my eyes are so heavy that, if I
don’t get up, I’ll be asleep. All the other families
are long gone, and I’m the only one left waiting. I
should have heard something by now, one way or
the other.

Just as I stand up, the receptionist walks toward

me.

“Do you have news?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, killing the little bit of hope

she carried across the room with her. “Not about
her condition. But Winnie’s on the sixth floor. In
the trauma-neuro intensive care unit.”

“She is? That’s good, right?”
“It’s progress,” she says.
“How long has she been out of surgery? Why

didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I’ve been watching the screen for you.

Unfortunately, the surgeons will only talk to

immediate family about their patients.”

I knew there was a chance this could happen,

but I thought for sure that Winnie’s circumstances
would be considered special. Because, if there was
no family to report to, wouldn’t the doctors at least
want to speak to someone who knew her? Someone
who cared?

As I take another elevator to a new floor, I

decide honesty isn’t going to get me anywhere. If I
want to hear about Winnie, I’m going to have to
pretend I’m her family. I don’t care how much
trouble I’ll get into as long as I can see her tonight.

This time, when the elevator doors open, the

hospital stench is stronger—like they just doused
the floor with some bleach or something. A narrow
hallway leads to another shiny floor with a bunch
of quiet nurses standing behind desks on wheels.
There’s no way I’ll find Winnie or get by them
without some help.

The first person to notice me is a younger nurse.

She’s unloading a cart of supplies. I’m sure I look
like a fish out of water, and I desperately hope she
throws me a life raft.

“Who are you looking for?” she asks in a warm,

calm voice.

I lick my lips and clear my throat, and then I tell

her, “Winnie Dawes.”

Without looking at a computer like the

receptionists did, she glances to the right. I follow

her eyes to the guard standing against the wall, his
arms crossed over his chest.

“Room seven-eleven,” she says. “But I’m sorry;

she’s not allowed to have any visitors.”

I forgot all about the security. Winnie was shot,

the victim of a crime, and getting through a line of
nurses should have been the least of my worries.

“I’ve been here for hours. You have to let me

see her.”

“Her father left strict orders. Immediate family

only.”

The word father slaps me across the face, and I

almost blurt out something stupid. Winnie’s dad is
dead.

My tongue is heavy, like it’s afraid to spew a lie,

but I risk the bad Karma anyway. What other
choice do I have? “I’m her brother.”

Our last names don’t match, so it’ll be a tough

sell, but a lot of kids have different moms and dads
these days. I can’t leave until I figure out who is in
that room with Winnie.

The nurse motions me to the desk, and she

hands me a piece of paper. “Sign this form, and
then I’ll give you a new sticker. You’ll be able to
come and go during visiting hours as long as you’re
wearing it.”

I jot down my real name and pull the old sticker

off my shirt, crumpling it up. Once the new one’s in
place, she glances at my chest and asks for ID. I’m

sure my hands are as shaky as my voice when I
hand it over to her. A quick glance between the
plastic and my sticker, and she seems to approve. I
watch her scribble something down on a clipboard,
and then she points to Winnie’s room.

“You can go in. She’s still sedated.”
That was too easy. So easy that I hesitate, like

I’m about to be hauled away by security for lying.
If I was able to make something up on the fly,
imagine what a little planning could do. Anyone
could be sitting in that room with Winnie right now,
pretending to be her father.

Stay cool, Jasper.
Another couple of steps, and I hear a man’s

voice. He’s sitting on the edge of her bed, holding
her hand and stroking her cheek with the back of
his finger. The words become whispers, and I think
he might be crying.

If I didn’t want to see Winnie so badly, I’d

probably turn around and disappear. But I’ve
waited too long, and she means too much to me to
give up now.

He doesn’t notice me at first, and when I have

the courage, I clear my throat and say, “Trey.”

Without turning around, he keeps ahold of

Winnie’s hand and says, “It took you long enough.”

For a couple of minutes, Winnie’s heartbeat is

the only sound in the room. It’s the most amazing
sound I’ve ever heard. Each beep is a reminder of

how close she came to death. How close she still
might be to leaving me.

But, for now, I still have her. And I won’t let go,

even with Trey a foot away from me, claiming her
as his own.

Five

Trey

I knew Jasper would show up. I’ve been watching
the two of them for weeks, wondering if what
Winnie feels for him is stronger than her feelings
for me. I’ve seen little nudges and comfortable
laughs that seemed to be lifting her carefully
constructed walls. She doesn’t let anyone in, but if
he keeps it up, it will only be a matter of time until
Winnie falls for Jasper. I’ll lose her, and that
realization stings almost as bad as seeing her in this
hospital bed.

I’ve always known Winnie is special. Night after

night, I doubt that I can ever be good enough for
her. Each time I came close to telling her how I felt,
I would tell myself to do the right thing and let her
go. But the thought of being with anyone else
makes me want to kick holes in the wall.

Right or wrong, acceptable or damning, Winnie

already belongs to me. She knows it. I know it, and
soon, the rest of the world will know it, too. Once I
say the words, Jasper will be removed from the
equation because she’d never jump into his arms
the way she leaps into mine. They don’t share a
history as deep as ours.

Jasper wouldn’t take a bullet for her. He

wouldn’t spend his nights following her around and
go without sleep to make sure every person who
came in and out of her trailer left her alone. He’s
never even been on the other side of the front door.
But I know where she’s slept, how little she eats,
what she does at school, and how she’s cried
herself to sleep at night. Winnie thinks she is all
alone. She feels like nobody cares. But I would give
my life for hers.

Winnie’s soul captured me long before her

looks. The years separating us mean nothing to me.
Because, when I lock eyes with this beautiful girl,
all I see is passion, fire, and fury. What we have
isn’t toxic. I’m not some grown-ass man preying on
someone half his age. I’m in love. I care. Maybe I
care too much. But I won’t apologize for it.

“You can relax,” I tell Jasper. “She’s gonna be

fine.”

Jasper swallows and then wipes his forehead

with the back of his hand. “I thought she was dead.
There was so much blood, and I couldn’t get close
to her.”

I was with her, but I didn’t stick around to

watch the pool of blood grow. For that reason
alone, Jasper’s a better man at seventeen than I’ll
ever be. But my life is complicated, and Winnie
understands that I have reasons for everything I do.
When she wakes up, she’ll take another blow. But
it won’t be forever.

“Can I…can I talk to her for a minute?” he asks

in a voice that’s a couple of octaves higher than it
was a minute ago.

He’s intimidated by me, as he should be, but he

loves Winnie, and that’s one thing I really can’t
fault him for. She’s easy to love.

“Go ahead,” I tell him. “Say what you need to

say.” I’m not leaving. Not yet.

Jasper takes a step closer to Winnie’s bed and

then another. He clears his throat. I wait for him to
speak.

He’s staring at Winnie when I ask, “What’d you

tell them?”

He glances at me and then back to Winnie. “The

nurses?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I need to know what he said in case

they stop me when I leave. If our stories don’t
match, they’ll know one of us is lying.

“I told them I was her brother. I-I didn’t know

what else to do. They weren’t going to let me in.”
He sits next to Winnie and inches his hand closer to
hers.

He lied, same as I did. Maybe I haven’t given

Jasper enough credit.

“I get it,” I tell him.
And then I turn and look out the window.

Because seeing him sitting next to Winnie, holding
her hand the same way I was, eats me alive.

“Winnie,” he whispers, “I’m sorry. I should

have followed you. If you’d just waited for me, we
could have gone to The Whip together. It would be
me in this bed. Not you.”

I’m not sure how much Winnie can hear or if

she can hear us at all, but I watch the monitors,
waiting for her numbers to spike. They stay even,
but when I glance at their joined hands, one of her
fingers moves the slightest bit. Winnie knows
Jasper’s here, and it hurts like hell that I didn’t get
a reaction like that while I was holding her.

Jasper notices the movement, too, and leans

forward to kiss her forehead. “I’m here, Winnie. I
won’t leave this hospital until you’re walking out
beside me.”

His words tighten my chest. So does the reality

that she might be in love with Jasper.

I can’t make the kind of promises he’s making.

Winnie’s recovery will take time—weeks, maybe
even months—and I’ll be lucky to stay another
hour. I’ve already been here too long. If the boss
tracks me, I’ll never see Winnie again. He doesn’t
like distractions and always takes the important

things first. That’s why, if I’m going to keep Winnie
safe, I’ll need Jasper’s help.

“Jasper, come here a minute.”
He’s reluctant to let go of Winnie’s hand, but he

gently lays it flat on her stomach and stands. “I’m
not leaving yet, Trey. I want to be here when she
wakes up.”

“I’m not asking you to leave. Just listen to me

for a minute,” I tell him.

“I’m listening,” he says.
God, he reminds me a lot of myself when I was

his age—persistent as hell and determined. That’s
exactly who I need him to be right now.

“We need to strike a deal, Jasper.”
“What do you mean?” he asks. “I told you, I’m

not leaving Winnie.”

He stands a little taller, and his fists clench at his

sides. I get it. Even though I don’t want to accept
the fact that he gives a shit about Winnie, I
understand the fight inside him. I’ve been feeling
the same thing for months.

“Keep your voice down,” I tell him. “If you get

thrown out, this won’t work.”

“What won’t work?”
“I want you to stay in this hospital, and I don’t

want you to leave for anyone or anything. No
matter who tries to force you out, you say whatever
you need to say to stay.”

His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over

his chest. I almost laugh.

“What’s your angle, Trey?”
“No angle.”
I always have an agenda, but today, I can’t be

bothered with schemes and ploys. Because, once I
walk out of here, Jasper’s my only remaining link to
Winnie. After I’m gone, I’ll need Jasper to trust me
enough to feed me information.

“Then, what do you want from me? Besides

staying.”

“Give me your phone.”
He digs it out of his back pocket and hands it to

me. I swipe across the screen and roll my eyes
when I see it’s password protected.

“Password?”
He blinks, and his face turns bright red.
“Winnie?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says and then quickly shifts his eyes

to the floor.

I type her name in, smirking the whole time.

“That’s a little bit pathetic. You know that, right?”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Trey.”
Once my name and number are in his Contacts,

I call myself so that I have his. Before I hand it
back, I give him the only warning he’ll get. “When
I call, you’ll answer. And, when I text, you’ll
respond immediately. Those are my conditions.”

“Conditions for what?”
“For letting you stay with her. I need someone I

can rely on. Right now, that’s you.”

“And if I don’t do it?”
My knuckles ache, and my joints burn. Jasper

could use a warning about what’d happen if he
tried to cross me, but punching him would only get
us both kicked out. Instead, I take a deep breath
and remind myself to stay cool for Winnie.

“You’ll do it because it’s what’s best for Winnie.

You want her safe, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he whispers.
“Good.”
I walk back to the bed and stroke my finger

down the side of Winnie’s cheek. Her skin is still so
pale, and when I reach for her hand, I watch her
fingers. They don’t move like they did when Jasper
was holding her. The heart monitor stays at an even
seventy-eight beats per minute, and her chest rises
and falls in the same steady rhythm.

“I’ll see you when you get out of here, Winn.

Wherever you end up, I promise I’ll find you.”
Without another glance at Jasper, I leave the room,
hating that I’m stuck working in a job that could get
me killed before I see her again. Hating that I can’t
sit next to her bed until she wakes up. Hating
myself. Hating Jasper. Hating my life.

And then I do something I’ve never done

before. I pray. I pray that, while I’m gone, Winnie
doesn’t hate me for leaving.

Six

Jasper

It’s been a long night, and I had to leave for a little
while this morning when they took Winnie’s
breathing tube out. I thought, when I saw her again,
she’d be awake, but she hasn’t woken up yet.

I’ve checked my phone a hundred times in the

last hour, waiting for one of Trey’s texts. But
there’s been no communication since he left last
night. He’s probably sleeping while I stayed awake,
afraid that, if I missed a message, he’d come back
here and take me away from Winnie. Maybe that’s
what he wanted—to scare me enough to keep me
here. He didn’t need to do that though. I made him
a promise, and breaking it would only hurt Winnie.

So far, the nurses have been nice, and I think

they feel sorry for me because they keep asking if
I’m hungry or if I want to lie down and rest. When
I say I’m fine, they make little comments, ones

about me being a good brother and how Winnie’s
so lucky to have me. At first, I felt guilty, but after I
got caught holding Winnie’s hand and kissing her
forehead, I realized they probably knew I was
lying. But, if they have figured me out, at least they
haven’t asked me to leave yet.

Little whimpers almost knock me out of my

chair, and I look up from my phone just in time to
see Winnie’s eyes open. She blinks a couple of
times, and I grab her hand.

“Good morning, beautiful.”
She swallows, wincing as she tries to lick her

lips.

“Don’t move. I have to get the nurse,” I tell her

with a half-smile on my face. I’m afraid she’ll fall
back asleep if I stop looking at her.

“My throat hurts,” she whispers.
“You had a tube in it. But you’re okay now.”
She closes her eyes and then opens them again.

“How long have I been asleep?” She looks around
the room and then back at me.

“Almost two days. Do you remember what

happened?”

“I-I remember the burn. Nothing after that.”
I bury my face in my hands, hating that she

knows what it feels like to be shot. The last time
she sounded this scared, she was on my bedroom
floor, curled into a ball. When she climbed into my
bed that night, I swore, that was as bad as it would

ever get for her. But I was wrong. This is so much
worse.

“Is Tess here?” she asks.
This time, I’m the one struggling to swallow. She

doesn’t remember anything after getting shot, so
she doesn’t know that Tess and Jax were taken
away in handcuffs.

“Winnie, Tess is in jail. She’s the one who did

this to you.”

“No, it wasn’t her, Jasper. She was holding the

gun, but it wasn’t hers. Jax took it from her, and
then he shot me. Tess didn’t do it. I remember
everything.”

The monitor beside the bed starts making the

most obnoxious noises, and a nurse is by her
bedside before I can get up to find someone. She
presses some buttons, checks her IV, and then holds
her stethoscope up to Winnie’s chest. She moves it
around a couple of times and says nothing.

When the silence is practically deafening,

another woman dressed in a business suit, carrying
a clipboard, enters the room. Winnie takes her eyes
off the nurse, and without a single spoken word,
she knows what’s coming.

“Tess didn’t do it,” she says again. “She’ll be

here soon to take me home. Right, Jasper?”

“I’m not an officer,” the woman tells her. “I’m a

social worker. I didn’t realize you were awake. I
was just dropping some papers off with your

nurse.”

Winnie’s not ready for this. She’s been awake

for five minutes, and already, tears are leaking from
the corners of her eyes.

“It’s okay, Winnie. Just breathe,” the nurse tells

her. “I’ll get you something to help calm you
down.”

“I don’t want drugs,” she says. “Tell her, Jasper.

Tell her it was Jax.”

I can’t lie. I won’t lie. But I promised Trey I’d

keep Winnie safe. Winnie’s pleading eyes win me
over, and I try—for her.

“Jax was there. He was with Tess.” It’s as close

as I can get to giving her what she wants without
lying.

But it’s not good enough.
Winnie’s tears fall harder, and she clutches the

blankets like they’re about to be ripped away from
her.

“Tell them, Jasper,” she begs. “I want to go

home.”

Winnie hates home. Her begging for it means

she’s scared. And I have no idea what to say to
make her feel better. I thought she’d wake up, and
we’d have time to talk. I was even going to tell her
that Trey was here. But, now, the nurse is guiding
me toward the hallway, and all I can do is go where
I’m being told to go.

“I’m not leaving,” I tell the nurse.

“You don’t have to go home, but the social

worker needs some time with Winnie. They have a
lot to discuss,” she says. “You can sit at my station
with me and go back in as soon as they’re finished
talking.”

Just as I sit down, my phone lights up with a text

from Trey. I stare at it for a few seconds and then
open it. He’s not going to like what I’m about to
say.

Seven

Winnie

The door closes, and I’m left all alone with this
woman. She hasn’t even introduced herself yet, and
I hate her. The way she eyes me like she cares even
though she’s about to rip what’s left of my heart out
makes me want to run. But I can’t get out of bed
because I’m attached to a bunch of wires and
machines.

I glance at my body, wondering how hard it

would be to move. Can I move? I don’t even know
if I can walk, so I wiggle my toes, and when they
move, I breathe a sigh of relief. The rest of me
though just aches. But, when I lift my arm and get a
good look at the needle going in my vein, my
stomach rolls, and I gag.

She grabs the pink plastic bucket sitting on the

tray table next to me and shoves it underneath my
chin. I heave into it, and it’s like being shot all over

again. This time, I can’t escape the pain though. I
feel it through every nerve ending, and though it’s
intense, I don’t pass out like I did in the parking lot.
All I can do is close my eyes and try to breathe.
When I do, images of my dad hunched over against
the wall with a needle sticking out of his arm flash
beneath my lids.

The woman’s voice gets carried further and

further away until it disappears entirely. The
machines stop beeping, and the lights from the
hallway darken. Either I’m dying or having a panic
attack. Sometimes, I can’t tell the difference, so I
rest my head against my pillow and let my mind
control my body. It’s easier than fighting.

Smoke from the ashtray weaved its way toward

the ceiling. I followed the ghostly path until it
vanished. Each sizzle of the white paper covering
the tobacco sent more smoke into the air. If it
burned long enough, it would eventually go out,
but another would take its place. They didn’t smoke
the cigarettes once they got high. They just lit them
and watched them burn. I didn’t know what was so
fascinating about wasting a ton of money, but they
did it like it was some kind of ritual.

“She’s watching us, Mick,” a deep voice says.
I had never seen him before. Usually, it was

always the same couple of people coming in and
out of the house. Nobody ever cared where I was at

or what I was doing. Not as long as I was out of the
way. But the window in my bedroom was leaking
again, and I needed something to catch the water. I
tried to make it from the bedroom to the kitchen
without being seen, but that was almost impossible
since the kitchen was attached to the living room.

Dad turned his head and smiled as I hurried by.

“She’s going back to bed. Aren’t you, Winnie?”

I nodded and grabbed the biggest bowl I could

reach out of the cabinet. It wasn’t much more than
a cereal bowl, and I’d have to stay awake to empty
it before it got too full, but that was okay. I was
used to staying up when the parties lasted until
early morning.

Once I was back in my room, I closed the door

behind me and placed the bowl on the radiator
under the leak. The drops fell slowly at first, and
then as the rain picked up, I watched them hit the
plastic faster. With only a thin nightgown to keep
me warm, I climbed under the covers and watched
from there.

I guessed I had done a bad job of staying awake

because, when I opened my eyes, the bowl was
nearly full, and there was someone standing next
to my bed, watching me sleep. I couldn’t tell if he
had seen me move or not, so I made sure to stay as
still as I could.

“You awake, beautiful girl?” he whispered.
His whisper was more like a grunt, and it made

me feel icky.

It was the same deep voice I’d heard for the

first time in the living room. The stranger I hadn’t
seen before tonight. He scared me, so I kept my
eyes closed tight and stayed as still as I could. I
thought about the raindrops falling into the bowl
and wondered if they’d crashed over the side yet,
spilling onto the floor. I should have put a towel
down just in case I didn’t get to it in time.

A scratchy palm touched my arm, and I wanted

to sit up and move away from him. But I was afraid
that being awake would make it worse, so I didn’t
move.

The floor by the hallway creaked, and my door

opened slowly.

“Get the fuck out, Jax.”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was a

good voice. The kind that looked out for me and
made sure I was safe.

The hand on my arm disappeared, and I

cracked my eye open far enough to see what was
going on. Trey had his hand around the stranger’s
neck, and he pushed him into the hallway. The
door closed, and I heard a loud thud and then
silence.

Trey always came.
He always knew when I needed him.

I need him now.

My body stops trembling, and I can swallow

without forcing it. I blink a couple of times, and the
room slowly comes back into focus. The nurse
pushes something clear into my IV; it’s cold, and it
makes me shiver.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “This will help you

relax.”

“I don’t want drugs,” I tell her. “No drugs.”
I don’t want drugs because I’m afraid I’ll end up

like Tess or my dad. Addicted or dead. Dad was
never an addict until he was. And I think the line is
so fine that, sometimes, people don’t realize
they’ve crossed it until they’re six feet in the
ground.

The woman with the clipboard takes a step

closer, and I feel the same way I felt when Jax was
standing beside my bed—scared, alone, afraid to
speak. I wish she would leave. Why can’t she leave
me alone?

“I need a phone to call Trey,” I tell the nurse.
He might go to the trailer, looking for me, and if

I’m not there, he’ll think I’m in trouble. I am in
trouble, but I’m underage, and I doubt my name is
on the news.

“He’ll pick me up, and then I can go home.”
“Sweetie, you can’t go home. You just had

major surgery, and your body needs time to heal
here, in the hospital. When you’re well enough to
be discharged, we’ll find proper placement for

you.”

Placement? No. I’m not going into some foster

home with a bunch of strangers who don’t know
me.

I don’t want a new home. I just want Trey and

the trailer. My key’s in my purse, and if I can find
my purse, I’ll be able to get there on my own.
Nobody has to know where I’m staying. It’s not
like anyone cared before today. I was Tess’s, and
she could do whatever she wanted with me.

The woman scans her file folder and says, “Is

Trey your father? I don’t have any record of him on
your paperwork.”

“My dad is dead.” Even though I just told her

my dad was dead, words I’ve said very few times
out loud, I feel my pulse start to slow down, and my
chest isn’t thumping the way it was. The drugs.
“What did you give me?”

“A mild sedative. It won’t make you fall asleep.

Just enough to make you comfortable, so you can
talk.”

She turns a page in my file, and I wonder how

she has so much information about me.

Where did she get it, and is it even true?
“What about your brother, Winnie? Would you

like me to get him? Maybe he can sit with you
while we talk.”

“I don’t have a brother.”
Nancy, the social worker, closes her folder and

bites her lip. “I didn’t think you did. It would have
made my job a little tougher if I’d had two kids to
place instead of one. I thought maybe he was
eighteen and didn’t need my services.”

“I don’t need your services either, Nancy. I’ve

been taking care of myself for years.”

“But you shouldn’t have to, Winnie. I think we

need to talk. And I think we should start from the
beginning.”

“You want the facts?”
“I want to know everything about you. I want

you to leave here happy and have the life you
deserve.”

I pull at a thread on the blanket covering my

legs. “What about what I want? Don’t I have a
say?”

Eight

Jasper

The second Winnie’s door opens and her room is
empty, I slither by the nurses’ station and then
sneak inside to see her. Her eyes are closed, but a
tear slides down her cheek. My palms start to sweat
again because she looks so small in the bed, but I
keep moving until I’m next to her. Then, I sit down
in the chair beside the bed and wait. When she’s
ready, she’ll talk. And, if that’s not tonight, then I’ll
sit here in silence, like I did when she was
unconscious.

Only a couple of minutes pass when she sniffles

and surprises me. She opens her eyes and says,
“Jasper,” and my heart about thumps out of my
chest.

I stand up and sit on the edge of the bed, as

close as I can get, so she doesn’t have to hurt her
throat while trying to speak.

“Talk to me, Winnie.”
Her eyes glisten with tears, and she’s so worn

out and tired. “I’m scared.”

I’m scared, too.
“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.

Okay?”

“Who’s we?” she asks.
“Me and Trey.”
I haven’t heard from him since the first text,

which I’m pretty sure was just a test to see if I’d
hold true to my word. I responded like I was
supposed to, and I guess he didn’t think Winnie
would be awake yet because he didn’t even ask.
The jealous side of me was glad that I knew more
than he did, so I held on to my secret, and the texts
stopped.

“Trey’s here? Where?” She looks toward the

hallway like he’ll walk through the door at any
minute.

I feel bad when I tell her, “He’s not here

anymore. He had to leave.”

She nods, and the little bit of light that flickered

in her eyes when she said his name vanishes. I see
the way she sucks her lip into her mouth to keep
the tears from falling again.

With a shaky voice, she asks, “He’s not coming

back, is he?”

“He can’t, Winnie. It’s too risky. If he’s

followed, that would be dangerous for you and

him.”

“You’re right.”
I’m right, but that doesn’t mean I want to be.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through
my Contacts and show her his name and number.
Then, I open the text messages and show her the
conversation between the two of us. At first glance,
she seems stunned. I can’t blame her. I was just as
shocked when he put me in charge of watching
over Winnie. She’s the one thing Trey cares about.
But she means everything to me, too.

“I don’t want you two fighting,” she whispers.

“He’s complicated, and he can be bossy when he
wants to be. It’s not him though; it’s his life. It’s not
a normal life.”

“Don’t worry. We’re getting along fine, and

we’re working together.”

She takes a deep breath and seems like she

believes me. “Do you think I can message him on
your phone?”

I hand it to her, and she stares at the buttons.

Then, I remember she doesn’t have a phone of her
own, so I take it back, open the text, and then give
it back. “Just type whatever you want to say, and
press the arrow on the right.”

I tell myself I won’t read it after she sends it.

That, the next time I open the chat, I’ll pretend her
words to Trey aren’t there, waiting for me to look
at them. But I already know I’ll look.

Her message must be short because it takes her

only a second to type before she says, “I’m done.”

“Keep it for now. In case he responds.”
She looks so hopeful as she watches the screen,

and I wonder if she’d have that same look on her
face if the roles were reversed—if Trey were sitting
here and they were messaging me.

Probably not.
I’m not old enough to save her the way Trey

can. I can’t sign papers to keep her out of foster
care or a group home. I’m just a seventeen-year-old
kid, same as her.

“You should get some rest, Winnie.”
“You won’t leave?”
“I won’t leave.”
She reaches for my hand and links her fingers

with mine. I don’t know why she does it. Maybe
she needs the reminder that she’s not alone or
something to anchor her as she sleeps, but I
squeeze her hand three times—my way of telling
her that I love her without actually saying the
words.

“You, too,” she whispers as she drifts off,

hopefully to a dream that’s full of happiness and
not a nightmare.

She gets it.
She gets me.
She gets us.

Nine

Winnie

It’s been three weeks since I got stuck between
Tess and the bullet. Twenty-one days since I felt the
searing burn tear through my skin and knock me to
my knees. They say your whole life flashes in front
of your eyes when you’re about to die. That didn’t
happen to me. There were no memories of my
mother, not a single glimpse of my dad leading me
toward heaven, and definitely no angel wings
fluttering around me. In my final moments, the
bright light didn’t come to welcome me home—
because I didn’t have a home. Nobody wanted me.
Not even dead.

As the dreary darkness invaded, I should have

been scared that reality was slipping away. But, as
the silence took over and I fell onto my side, I
didn’t care that I was lying on uneven gravel with
little pieces of broken glass pricking my skin.

Numbness was all I felt. No pain. No agony. I
simply didn’t feel.

The shards stuck to my cheek left little cuts as I

ran my fingernail through the dirt near my mouth. I
didn’t even try to pray. Living or dying didn’t
matter because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed
to be living for anymore. Whatever my body
decided to do, I would accept it. And, if I was
transported to hell instead of heaven, I was sure it
couldn’t be much worse than life.

Heaven or hell, right or wrong, living or dead, I

knew Winnie Dawes would be forgotten, no matter
what happened. Nobody at school would put up a
shrine at my locker to remember the girl who had
only said fifteen words during an entire school year.
They wouldn’t cry in the courtyard over lunch
period or pay tribute to me on the fifty-yard line at
the first football game of the year. My classmates
didn’t know me, just like I didn’t know them. I
never took the time to care. Never let anyone get
close enough to see how afraid I really was.
Because, if I let someone see the truth, I couldn’t
take it back.

I wasn’t alone though. To put it nicely, Carillon

had issues. Everyone was fighting a battle nobody
knew about. You could see it in the slumped
shoulders or the tired eyes as they came and went.
The neighbors knew my trailer wasn’t safe. It was
no place for a teenager to call home. But they

turned a blind eye to the men who lurked at all
hours of the night, sneaking into my bedroom to
prey on the girl who so desperately wanted to be
loved. I was an easy target. And, as long as I was
the focus, the rest of the girls my age would be left
alone.

Hours of therapy haven’t changed what I’ve

been through. Therapy hasn’t made what happened
to me any easier to talk about. And it hasn’t made
me fight any harder for myself than I did before.
Despite the pats on the back and being told I’m
strong, I’m still all alone. I just have a few more
scars to add to my collection.

Nancy, my social worker, has gone out of her

way to make me comfortable. Besides the group
sessions, she’s added private sessions of her own.
I’m sure she’s worked at least sixty hours with me,
and while I’m thankful, I know it won’t do any
good. Because, come five o’clock, I won’t be free
anymore.

She hasn’t told me about my placement yet. I

know it’s coming, and I know she’s purposely
waiting until the last minute, so I have less time to
dwell on where I’ll be going.

“Where do you see yourself in five years,

Winnie?”

Five years was a lot of time. I usually lived day

to day, not allowing myself to focus on more than

twenty-four hours at a time. More than that, and it
was hard to breathe.

She’d asked an honest question, so I tried to

give her an honest answer. “With Trey.”

Her expression easily showed how much she

disapproved of that choice. Without going into a
lot of detail, I told her about him.

“What else?” she asked, like he wasn’t enough

even though he was everything.

“I want to go to design school and have my own

business.”

That made her eyes sparkle, and I knew I’d said

the right thing for once.

“Always have a goal for yourself. Don’t let

your future depend on another person. Focus on
you, Winnie. You can make your dreams happen.”

I so badly want to believe that’s true. Without

Trey though, all I see is a life half-full. The little
spark I feel when he’s around gets me through the
tough times. When I’m down, I think of him, and
I’m back to the clouds, floating around. He’s my
little bit of goodness that I never want to be
without.

“Where do you see yourself living in a week?”

she asked next.

Nancy always started with the bigger picture

and then worked backward. Time became shorter,

and I was forced to talk about now instead of later.
A week was still out of my comfort zone, but I
thought about it.

In a week, I was positive I’d still want the same

thing, so I told her, “With Trey.”

I’d never had a choice when it came to a home,

but if she was going to give me one, that was where
I wanted to go. My first choice would always be
Trey. But just because that’s what I want doesn’t
mean I am going to get it.

Since he wasn’t at the hospital during my stay,

Nancy didn’t think he would be a good fit. I told
her he had a demanding job, and that only seemed
to be another strike against him. She didn’t care
how nice he was or how good he was to me. It
didn’t matter that he’d moved into a crappy trailer
across the street to watch over me or that he paid
for food and school supplies when I needed money.

Trey was my best option, but he was the worst

on paper.

The court wouldn’t allow a man with a record to

have legal guardianship over me, especially one
who wasn’t related by blood. Nancy didn’t care
that he made me feel the safest I’d ever felt or that
he made me happy. She cared about all the little
things—the stuff a mom and dad would do for me.
Trey would never be my parent. He couldn’t be.
Because I loved him, and when I closed my eyes, I

would think about our kiss and how I wanted a
million more.

“Let me ask my mom again, Winnie,” Jasper

says for the tenth time today. “Now that Tess is
locked up and you’re away from the park, things
will calm down.”

“She said no for a reason.”
She said no because I’m trailer trash. Why

would she risk backlash from Jax or his groupies by
keeping me under her roof? Taking me in would put
her at risk. It would put Lydia at risk, and that’s
way too scary to think about. That little girl
deserves a life without drug dealers and strippers
banging on her door or lurking in her bedroom late
at night.

It’s killing Jasper that he has no idea where I’ll

be in a couple of hours. He’s spent every second of
every day at the hospital with me. When I went to
therapy, he sat and waited in the rocking chair and
took a nap. When I came back, he never asked
what I’d talked about or pressured me for
information. Instead, he held my hand when I
couldn’t breathe, and somehow, he knew that was
enough for me.

It’ll be weird to be without him.
“You’ll call me the second you get to where

you’re going?” he asks as his knee bounces
nervously.

I wish I could give him something to calm him

down. I think he needs it more than I do.

“Yes. I’ll call as long as my foster family has a

phone I can use.” I’ve heard about homes with next
to nothing, and I’m fully prepared to walk into a
house with my bag of clothes and continue to live
off of tuna fish and crackers.

Horrified at the possibility, Jasper digs into his

pocket and hands me his phone. “I want you to
take mine. I’ll get a new one and pay both bills, so
don’t worry about the money.”

“Jasper, you can’t afford two phones.” Not on a

dishwasher’s salary.

“I’ll work extra at The Whip. Just keep it.”
I don’t want him spending any more time at The

Whip. Being there exposes him to Tess’s crew, and
I know they won’t leave him alone now because of
me. He’s on Trey’s side, and once they get word of
that, it’ll be him against everyone. Ace can’t
protect him. Nobody can.

“I can’t take it. You’ve done enough, Jasper.”
“Winnie, I’m not asking. Here.” He holds out

his hand, and when I don’t take the phone, he
opens my palm for me.

If I needed to run away or my new foster

parents got too close, I could call Jasper or Trey. I
want to do the right thing, but I want to be selfish,
too. I’m about to hand it back when Nancy walks
into the room with another woman by her side. She
has chin-length blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.

She’s tiny, and she gives me a warm smile. It’s not
the fake kind that usually makes my skin itch.

She reaches her hand out, and I hesitate for a

second before realizing I’m supposed to shake it.
I’m not good at introductions, and meeting new
people always means more talking.

“Cindy,” she says. “It’s so nice to meet you,

Winnie.”

The name stitched on her blazer, Sunshine

Place, is a group home for teenagers. I recognize it
from one of the brochures Nancy sent me back to
my room with. She thought it might be a good fit.
I’d be able to stay at the same school, and while I
hate going to class, I’d still see Jasper every day.

Nancy watches me, and when I don’t respond,

she takes a step closer. “Winnie, I’ve decided to
place you with the home we discussed. Cindy’s the
home mother, and you’ll spend a lot of time with
her. Both she and her husband are in charge, and I
think you’ll learn to enjoy your time there. There
are a lot of activities, and you’ll meet your
housemates as soon as you get there.”

Cindy smiles and says, “They’re preparing for

your welcome party right now.”

A party?
I haven’t been celebrated since I was five.

Birthdays come and go without cake or candles,
and I’ve never been showered with confetti or
balloons. When I got to Tess’s trailer, she pointed to

my room, and that was the end of it. I didn’t even
have a key for the first month. Not until she trusted
I wouldn’t take her stuff or steal the attention she
craved away from her.

“She’s always been pretty,” I heard her say the

first night. “Too fucking pretty, Jax.”

I cut that night and hoped that it made me uglier

—as ugly as I felt on the inside about losing my dad
and hating her. I thought, if I went ahead and
ruined myself before she could do it, then maybe
she’d like me a little more.

Nobody could grow to dislike me more than

Tess. I wasn’t perfect, and she reminded me of how
worthless I was every chance she got.

“Are we leaving now?” I ask Cindy.
She nods and smiles again, showing off her

perfectly white teeth. “Everyone’s waiting.”

“How many people?”
“There are three girls and three boys. Ages

thirteen to eighteen.”

“Eighteen?” I question.
She reaches out to touch my shoulder, but I

back up before she can make contact. I see the
disappointment, but I ignore it.

“We’re your family now, Winnie. You have a

birthday coming up, and I don’t want you to be
scared about that. Turning eighteen should be
exciting.”

I’ve been looking forward to being an adult for

so long—mostly so that I could escape Tess—that I
haven’t thought about much other than that. I just
need to get to that date on the calendar, so I can
move on.

“Okay.” I swallow and glance at Jasper. “I

guess…I guess I’m ready then,” I lie.

Ready? I’m nowhere near ready.
The thought of sharing a room with a stranger or

fighting for the bathroom when I need to escape
scares me. I’ll be expected to do chores like a child
and earn the right to privileges. I’m used to making
myself invisible and erasing my footsteps wherever
I go.

Jasper stands up so fast, the rocking chair slams

against the wall. Nancy checks for a dent and runs
her finger over the small indentation.

“Now?” he says in a rush. “I thought she had

another therapy session, and then she’d go after
dinner? We had some things to discuss.”

He wants to discuss the phone again, and I’m

sure he’d like to discuss us. Nancy tolerates Jasper,
but she doesn’t like that he’s as dependent on me as
I am on him. He’s my best friend, but I can’t tell
her he’s here because he’s working with Trey, too.
That would mess up Trey’s plans. Plans I know
nothing about but believe exist.

“I’ll be back for you, Winn. Wait for me.”
I heard Trey say it in the hospital. My body was

paralyzed, and my brain was foggy, but I heard him.

And, when he held my hand, I tried to move my
fingers to show him I was listening. By the time I
made something happen, Jasper was with me,
rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. The
small movements I was finally able to make were
meant for Trey.

Nancy mashes her lips together, like she was

expecting this might be difficult for Jasper. “Cindy
thought it would be better to get settled earlier in
the day. She’ll have her therapy sessions as
scheduled at the house.”

“I’d like a minute with Jasper before we go, if

that’s okay.”

Both Cindy and Nancy nod, and as soon as

they’re in the hallway, I pull Jasper into the
bathroom, close the door, and lock it.

“I’m not ready for this, Winnie.” His face is

flushed, and he’s starting to sweat.

I reach up and brush the hair off his forehead.

He squeezes his eyes shut because my hands are
freezing. They’re always cold when I’m nervous.

Jasper’s warm breath flutters across my

forehead, and it finally hits me that I’m leaving. He
won’t be on the other side of the fence in his big
house on the hill anymore. When I need him, I
can’t push through the thick branches, climb
between the broken fence, and then scale the
ladder attached to the side of his house. To get to
him, I’ll need to figure out the bus route or get a

ride.

Since I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve gotten used

to seeing him as soon as I open my eyes in the
morning.

“You’re my best friend, Jasper,” I whisper. “I

didn’t have a friend until I met you.”

“Why are you talking like you’re never going to

see me again?”

“Am I?”
“Your voice is sad. Like when you want to run

away.”

“If I run away, I’ll run to you. I promise.”
“Don’t leave without me, Winnie. No matter

how bad it gets, just wait for me. I’ll go anywhere
with you. We’ll figure it out.”

My lips pull into an unexpected smile. “I

haven’t even gotten there yet, and we’re already
running away.”

“You know what I mean.”
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me

against his chest. I smell the dryer sheet his mom
uses to clean his clothes. It’s how I imagine home
smells like—one with two parents and a chore list
hanging on the fridge. Wash baskets with each kid’s
name on the front and a couple of hooks on the
wall by the door where backpacks and lunch boxes
hang. A dog with scruffy hair and a tennis ball full
of drool. A reminder about the curfew being
shouted at a teenager hurrying out the front door.

Normal. I want normal so bad, it hurts.
Tears prick my eyes, and I slide my hand into

Jasper’s pocket, rooting around for his pocketknife.
He knows what I’m after and grabs my hand while
it’s still inside the denim.

“Winnie,” he says with warning, “stop it.”
“Don’t judge me, please. Not this time.”
He lets go of my wrist, and I keep my hand on

the knife inside his pocket. He stays still as I pull it
out, and then I dig my fingernail into the little
groove to pull out the blade. Head-to-toe warmth
washes over me like a soft blanket on a cold night.

“Give it back, Winnie.”
“Turn around,” I whisper. “Just turn around, and

don’t move until I tell you.”

“You’re not cutting yourself with my knife while

I’m standing here.”

I can’t look at him when I say, “Wait outside for

me. Tell them I’m going to the bathroom.” Telling
him to lie for me isn’t fair, but I’m desperate.

He carefully places his hands around my wrists.

Jasper’s always careful with me, but when he says,
“No,” he means it.

But I mean it, too, when I shake my head. “One

cut.” My scars tingle with anticipation.

He says nothing, so I push up on my tippy-toes

and kiss him on the cheek. The breath he sucks in is
so sharp, I know I have him.

“I won’t ask you for another thing for as long as

I live, Jasper.”

“I don’t believe you,” he says as he lets go of

me and turns around.

His words are a harsh rejection, and they’re

almost enough to make me want to stop.

Almost.
Saying good-bye to him is weighing me down

and so is leaving the hospital with no idea about
where Trey is or when I’ll see him again. I trust
Jasper to tell him where I’m going, so that’s not
really a concern. It’s the reality that I don’t know if
Cindy or her husband will let me see Trey once I’m
living under their roof. They might monitor every
move I make or make sure I’m never alone outside
the house—because of the shooting. And I’ll
suffocate to death if that’s the case.

Gingerly, because my body’s still pretty sore, I

pull my sweatpants down to my knees and sit down
on the floor with my legs out in front of me. I’m
thankful the material is black and can hide the
blood after I’m finished, and then I press the knife
into the first white scar at the top of my thigh.
Hesitating for a second, I look up at Jasper. I’ve
never cut in front of someone before. I wasn’t even
sure if I could. But, as I push harder and slice
across the scar that holds so many memories, I bite
my lip to keep from making a sound.

The familiar burn is followed by the sting I

crave. My eyes water at the corners, and if I were

still attached to a machine, I’m sure my pulse
would be fast enough to send a couple of nurses
running into the room to check on me. That rush of
adrenaline fades fast though. As quickly as it shot
up, it crashes, and then I’m left with a trickle of
blood. I stare at it for longer than normal because I
don’t know if it’s even my blood. I lost so much of
my own, they gave me a transfusion in the
operating room to keep me alive, and a little guilt
trickles around the curve of my thigh with the
droplets.

Just one more cut, I tell myself.
One more, and it’ll be enough to hold me over

until I get to the house and meet everyone. But I
know that’s not true. Going to Sunshine Place will
only make me want to cut more. All the chaos,
people, questions. I’m terrible with questions. And I
don’t want to go back to sleeping with one eye
open again.

Do it, Winnie.
One more cut becomes two and then three.
Jasper turns around before I have a chance to

wipe away the blood. He lunges toward me,
kneeling on the floor with a handful of tissues.
“Fuck, Winnie! Enough!” he shouts.

“Shh! Keep your voice down.” My voice is void

of his panic. Bare of emotion or regret.

I never regret this feeling—the reassuring

euphoria. If it were up to me, I’d do another cut. I

might even make a new scar beneath the others.

“Give me the damn knife back. God, what was I

thinking?”

“You care about me?” I say it like I can’t decide

if I believe it or if I want it to be true.

He pauses with the bloody tissues in his hand.

“Of course I care about you. All I want is to make
you happy. Don’t you get that?”

“Nobody else would let me cut.”
“Because it’s wrong,” he says with disgust

lacing his voice. “I don’t understand it, and I never
will. You’re beautiful, and you want to put marks
all over yourself. You want to see yourself bleed,
and that’s fucked up.”

Wrong.
Fucked up.
I stare at my hands and then at the thick vein

across my wrist. For a fleeting moment, I imagine
what it would be like to cut across it. Right here.
Right now.

“Cold water helps stop the bleeding faster.”
Jasper just looks at me. Like he can’t believe

that’s all I have to say after he just told me I was
crazy for wanting to mark up my skin. He’s right
though, so why would I argue?

With red-rimmed eyes, he presses cold paper

towels against my leg. He’s quiet for a few minutes,
and then he says, “What happens if you do this and
I’m not there? What if you take it too far one night

when you’re upset?”

“I’ve never taken it too far. I know when to

stop, Jasper.”

He still won’t look at me, so I take his free hand

and lace my fingers with his. Usually, it calms him
down as much as it comforts me.

“Look at me.”
When his eyes shift to mine, I get lost. I want to

tell him that he has nothing to worry about. I want
to be the normal girl he wants me to be. I want to
give him everything he needs, like he’s given me,
but I can’t. All I know is that I’ll see him again
soon. I have to. Because life without Jasper
wouldn’t be as bearable. Just like never kissing
Trey again would destroy me.

“Don’t be upset. You just gave me the best gift

ever. You’re letting me walk out of here with
exactly what I needed.”

Cringing, he lets go of my hand and tosses the

paper towels into the trash can. Then, he shoves the
knife back into his pocket. I’m sure he’ll throw it
away as soon as he gets home so that he’ll never be
in this situation again.

“What about what I need, Winnie?”
“Tell me.”
A knock on the door interrupts us, and he helps

me stand up.

I pull my pants back up and fix my sweatshirt

the best I can. “They’re gonna think we had sex.”

That makes him smile. “No, Winnie. When I

have you, it won’t be on a bathroom floor. You’ll
be in my bed—where you belong.”

I wait for the butterflies to run rampant, but they

only flutter a little bit. I smile and hope I blush a
little. I do care about Jasper. I feel something for
him, and I want to want him as much as he wants
me. But Trey’s always in the back of my mind. As
long as he’s there, nobody else is going to come
close to setting my soul on fire the way he does.

Ten

Trey

Jasper: She’s with a woman named
Cindy. They’re going to Sunshine
Place.

I reread the text again, like it’s going to change if I
stare at it long enough. I knew the social worker
would place her soon. She’s been riding Winnie’s
case hard, giving her extra time and attention. From
the sound of it, she’s damn good at her job.

Sleep has been something between a nod-off in

the car between stops and the hour or so a night
when I actually see a pillow and bed. I haven’t
been able to shut my mind off long enough to get
any kind of real sleep. I feel helpless and jealous as
hell that Jasper gets to see Winnie when I don’t.

Last week, the jealousy got so bad, I almost did

something stupid. I almost risked it all, packed my

shit, and went to the hospital. In my head, the plan
was solid. I’d walk right in, sign Winnie out, and
leave. Whatever medical care she needed, I’d find
a way to get it for her. Whether I had to hire a
doctor or nurse to care for her, I’d do it. No amount
of money was too much as long as she was with
me. But going to the hospital would have put a
target directly on her back.

I’m no saint though. I still did what I had to do.

Jasper followed through with his promise to watch
over Winnie. For that, I owe him. I’m just not sure
he’s going to appreciate the kind of compensation I
have in mind.

I did what I had to do.
Now, it’s only a matter of time until Jasper sees

that for himself.

He’ll be upset for a while, like I was when I was

his age. And then he’ll see the benefits and
understand why I did what I did. He might even
thank me once he gets used to his new life. Because
Winnie’s going to have a new life, too. Once she
turns eighteen and the law’s on our side, she’ll be
mine. The second the principal places the diploma
in her hand, we’ll be taking off.

I’ll give her a good life.
The life she’s always deserved.
Our life.
Together.

Eleven

Winnie

The car’s too hot, and it smells like lemons. Cindy’s
driving like she’s waiting for a deer to jump out in
front of the car. There are a lot of woods down this
stretch of the road, so I guess it’s possible, but I’m
pretty sure she’s only driving this slow because my
silence makes her nervous.

I try to ask her a question so that she doesn’t

think I’m ungrateful or stupid, but then my mind
shifts to Trey and how I’d rather be in his car right
now. My throat gets scratchy, and I hold back the
tears, convincing myself to keep a brave face
around Cindy and the other kids.

My sweatpants are damp, and I need a Band-

Aid. I use that as a distraction. A couple of times, I
even press on the cuts, so they clot faster. The
cotton from my pants stings a little, but I like it. It
means I’m capable of feeling something—

something other than sadness and shame.

Cindy changes the radio station again. I think

she’s waiting for me to tell her I like one of the
songs, but I haven’t been listening to music lately.
The hospital didn’t have a radio, and the TV stayed
off most of the time. Nancy said, if I had time to
watch it, I had time to work on myself, and then
she would walk me to another counseling session
with more people I didn’t know.

We sat in a round circle with chairs facing the

center of the circle, just like in the movies. I
always thought it was weird that you had to look
strangers in the eye while revealing your deepest,
darkest secrets, but Nancy said that was the point.

“Look fear in the eye, Winnie. Don’t ever give

it the power to destroy you.”

I thought about that for a while. Did I let what

Jax and Tess had done to me destroy me? I didn’t
think so. I woke up every day, and I tried to make it
through the day. The cutting stopped while I was in
the hospital, and I had a grip on my anger. But
what didn’t change was the self-doubt—the way I
thought I wasn’t good enough. If I had just been
stronger, better, less dependent on other people, I
could have made it on my own by now.

When it came time for me to speak to the circle,

I opened my mouth, and I screamed. Some of the
girls covered their ears. A couple of guys laughed

at me. Nancy just let me get it out.

When I was finished, she said, “Do you feel

better?”

Better? No. I didn’t feel much different.
That was when she told me, “We’ll get there,

Winnie. Just take it one day at a time. Let one
second follow the next.”

I listened to her. I focused on seconds instead of

minutes. Minutes instead of hours. Then, hours
instead of days. Time in the hospital became
routine and manageable, but it didn’t change life
on the other side of the tracks. When I left, I knew
I’d have to dig deeper than I ever had before. And
that made me want to cut.

Another station change, and Cindy says,

“You’re probably glad to be done with that hospital
food.”

“I liked the hospital food,” I tell her.
It was the best food I’d had since Dad died. The

fact that it didn’t come from a can or a pouch made
it taste better. It was usually a hot meal, and I got to
use actual silverware to eat it.

Cindy flicks her turn signal and doesn’t say

anything until she’s made the turn onto a new
street. This one’s lined on both sides with huge
trees. The kind of trees that hold so much history,
the leaves tell stories when they fall to the ground.

“You’re right, Winnie. Hospital food isn’t so

bad. What are your favorite snacks? I’ll make sure
to get them for you the next time I run to the
market.”

“I pretty much lived off of tuna fish and canned

fruit. I’d get a lot of saltine crackers from the
cafeteria; they were free. I couldn’t afford much.”

She swipes at her cheek and rubs her hand on

her pants. There’s still a little dampness left
underneath her eyes.

Pity. Pity feels cheaper than dancing at The

Whip. At least there, I’d get money in my pockets
and not have to defend hospital food.

“Well, I have my homemade chicken soup

simmering on the stove. It’s my claim to fame. How
does that sound?”

I had soup a couple of times in the hospital.

Chicken, tomato, even clam chowder once. I
wasn’t sure if I had a seafood allergy or not, but
since I was already in the hospital, I figured it was
safe to try. Turned out, clam chowder was gross.
Those little rubbery bites were hard to chew, and
the broth was thick like milk.

“That sounds good,” I tell her.
Another right and then a left, and we pull into a

driveway. I’ve learned not to expect much, but the
two-story brick home is massive.

“What do you think?”
“It’s huge.”
She points to the second floor, the last window

on the right side. “That one there is your room.
You’ll share with Melody. She’s a very talented
musician, but you’ll see that for yourself soon
enough. She’s working on a new song.”

“Who else lives here?”
Cindy puts the car in park, and the doors

automatically unlock.

She leaves it running, and I tell her, “Don’t

worry; I’m not going to run.”

I don’t know this side of town very well. Even if

I ran, I wouldn’t know which buses to take to get to
Jasper’s house, and I have no idea if Trey’s still
staying at the trailer now that I’m not living with
Tess.

“Winnie,” she says, “I want you to be happy

here. We all want that for you. I think, if you give
us all a chance, you’ll see that things aren’t so bad.
Like I said, Melody’s your roommate. Hannah and
Raven share the room across from you. The boys—
Chance, Matty, and Dray—are on the other side of
the house. Dray has the single, and Matty and
Chance share.”

“Are they nice?”
“They have manners when it matters. Sunshine

Place is a learning opportunity. We gave it a happy
name because most of the kids who pass through
don’t know what sunshine on a warm day feels like.
They know darkness and clouds.”

My whole life’s been a dark cloud following me

around.

The curtains part in the living room, and a girl

with long blonde hair peeks out.

“Which one is that?”
“Raven,” she says. “She’s the exact opposite of

her name.”

Nodding, I check out the other windows, but

nobody else is watching us. It’s a good thing. I’d be
nervous if they were all in the driveway, expecting
me to be someone I’m not.

“Any other questions before we go inside?”
“No.” I want to see my room and find

someplace quiet to check Jasper’s phone.

As soon as Cindy opens the front door, the smell

of chicken soup smacks me in the face. The house
is neat and clean—not a single decoration out of
place, no pieces of laundry strewed on the floor,
and no empty pizza boxes from a week ago on the
coffee table. I’m afraid to touch anything.

“Raven, why don’t you take Winnie up to her

room? Show her around the upstairs and then meet
us back down here, so we can talk about your
punishment. I believe today’s the last day of your
grounding.”

She doesn’t say a word, just stares at me, and

then she starts walking up the stairs. They’re lined
with school pictures of teenagers, some more dated
than others.

“That’s the memory wall,” she tells me. “Your

face will go up soon.”

I didn’t get school pictures taken this year. Not

even a senior picture for the yearbook. I couldn’t
afford any of the photographers the other kids were
using, and I was absent the day they took the free
shots with the school photographer. I wandered
around town that day because I didn’t want my
picture in a memory book. Thirty years down the
road, they’d wonder who the sad-looking girl with
blue eyes was. Maybe they’d had a math class with
her or maybe she’d moved into town late in the
year. Regardless, they wouldn’t remember me
anyway. I didn’t want them to.

Raven stops in front of a closed door and says,

“Good luck.”

Before she goes back downstairs, I ask her,

“What did you do? To get grounded?” I want to
know what I’m up against and just how strict Cindy
and her husband really are.

She gives me a wicked smile, and then she

laughs. “I screwed Matty on the kitchen table.”

Cindy’s words float through my head.

“Sunshine Place is a learning opportunity.”

Sunshine Place might look like the house from

Home Alone, but I’ve walked in on Tess screwing
Jax on the kitchen table more times than I can
count. Maybe this place isn’t much different than
the trailer.

“Go inside.”

I turn my head, and Alex Drayer’s standing at

the end of the hallway with a football in his hands.
He’s in a couple of my classes, but I had no idea he
lived here. Then again, I have no idea where most
kids live or what they do outside of school. That’s
part of why I keep to myself. The less I know about
them, the less they know about me. Or so I hope.

“Alex?”
“I go by Dray here,” he says as he walks closer.
We’ve never had a real conversation. Just a few

words exchanged during a class project last
semester. Alex—I mean, Dray has never made fun
of me to my face. He’s never laughed at my
clothing or the homemade bags I use to carry my
books. He’s even smiled at me a couple of times in
the hallway. Now, I wonder if that had something to
do with his own life. Because, if he’s living here
now, it must not be that great.

“I didn’t know,” I tell him. I didn’t know he was

in trouble. Or that he had no place to live.

“Nobody does. I use a different name at school.

I ride the bus from the good side of town, so who
would guess my life’s fucked?”

“How long have you been here?” I ask him.
“Six months. I hated it at first. Mostly because

of the rules. I was used to being on my own. But
give Cindy a chance. She’s tough, but she’s fair.”

“What’s Melody like?”
“Weird as hell,” he says with a laugh. “But she

grows on you.”

“I guess I should go in.”
Dray stands there, all six feet of his muscles and

tan skin, and waits for me to open the door. My
fingers wrap around the knob, and I realize how
nervous I am to get this girl’s approval. She
probably doesn’t want a roommate any more than I
want to be one. Like Dray said, we’re used to being
on our own, fending for ourselves.

Melody’s lying across her bed with headphones

on. She doesn’t hear the door open or lift her head.
I set my bag on my bed, and she looks up from her
sheet music. Beside it, there’s an open journal with
a bunch of lyrics scribbled across the page. At least,
I think they’re lyrics.

At first, she just looks at me, and I glance at my

clothes. My sweats aren’t impressive, and
compared to her trendy cutoff jean shorts and tank
top, I must look homeless.

She makes no effort to speak to me, so I turn

back around and open my bag, digging to the
bottom to find my phone. That gets her attention
because, when I pull it out, she rips off her
headphones and sits up.

“How’d you get that in here?” she asks.
“Um, in my bag.”
“Cindy didn’t go through your things?”
“No. I came straight from the hospital.”
“Oh, that’s why,” she says. “She figured you’d

already been searched. You got lucky.”

I tuck the phone into my pocket and sit on the

edge of the bed. “We’re not allowed to have
phones?”

“We’re not allowed to have any distractions.

Just hobbies and school.”

The lump in my throat goes down hard. If

talking on the phone isn’t allowed, how am I ever
going to get permission to spend time with Trey? I
won’t be able to lie my way around seeing him.

Melody’s still talking, but I’ve blocked her out.

My heart’s racing again, and I don’t want to be
here anymore. I don’t want to give Sunshine Place
or Cindy’s stupid chicken soup a chance. I just
want to find a way to Jasper’s and then to Trey.

I run out of the room and into Dray as he comes

out of the bathroom. He puts his hands on my
shoulders and bends down to see my face.

“Stop,” I tell him. “Let go of me.”
He fights me for a second, but then I spit into his

face, and he backs up into the wall. As soon as the
door is closed, I try to lock it, but there’s no lock on
the door. They don’t trust us to be alone; we’re all
so screwed up. And they took away the only thing
that has ever made me feel safe—a locked door.
It’s like I’m back in my room with the Christmas
bell around the doorknob, waiting for it to ring,
waiting for the hands to find my body.

I sit on the edge of the tub and wrap my arms

around my stomach. The only thing to put in front
of the door is a small plastic trash can. It’s not
heavy enough to keep anyone out. But Dray and
Melody aren’t trying to get in. I’m all alone,
straining for a breath.

The phone in my pocket vibrates, and I pull it

out. Jasper’s name flashes across the screen, and I
think about which way to swipe to answer the call.

“Winnie? Are you there?”
His voice makes my eyes sting, and I force

myself not to cry, but my voice is shaky when I say,
“Jasper.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he says in a

rush.

“I’m freaking out. I can’t stay here. Can you

come and get me?”

He lets out a frustrated breath, and I know he’s

pacing.

“I just picked up a new phone. If I can get Ace

to let me borrow his car, I’ll come across town and
find you. But I don’t know if he’ll let me have it.”

“Please,” I beg. “You have to come.”
“Winnie.”
“Please.”
“I want to. You know I do. I’m sorry.”

I’m in bed, listening to Melody’s music playing
from her computer. Her voice is unique and like
nothing I’ve ever heard before.

I think I’m dreaming when the familiar rumble

of an engine rolls down the street and stops in front
of the house. Before it disappears, I run to the
window and pull the blinds up. At the edge of the
driveway, Trey’s sitting there, watching the house.

There’s no way to get outside without scaling

the house. The bedrooms are on the second floor,
and I’d break my legs and end up back in the
hospital if I tried to jump. He’s so close, and I can’t
get to him.

“Your phone’s ringing, Winnie.”
My phone. I run to the closet and pull it out of

my bag. Trey’s name is flashing across the screen.

“Get me out of here,” I tell him.
He says nothing.
“Trey, can you hear me?”
Still, no response.
“Trey!” I’m panicking, but I can hear him

breathing, so he has to be able to hear me, too. But
I know that’s exactly why he’s not responding. He
showed up so that I know I’m not alone, yet he
stays far enough away so I won’t get into trouble. I
want trouble. I want Trey. “Talk to me, please. I
need you.”

The call ends, and he revs his engine and then

takes off down the street, the same way he came.

My heart skips a beat, and I try to throw up the
window, but it won’t budge.

“It’s locked,” Melody says. “For the jumpers.”
“Are we in prison? No locks on the doors. The

windows don’t open. Maybe they want to
microchip me before school starts,” I seethe.

“We’re here because we’re fucked up, Winnie.

If we could go to a regular foster home, we would
have. But this happy place is supposed to make us
normal again.”

I have no idea how long she’s been living here.

For her to be so pessimistic yet stay, something
must be appealing about not running away.
Because, right now, that’s all I want to do.

If I could make it out the front door without an

alarm going off, I’d do it. That’s why I decide to
work on finding out the code. If I watch Cindy and
her husband, Doug, close enough, I bet I can figure
it out.

For now, I lie down in my bed and type out a

text to Trey.

Winnie: I need you. Come back.

I wait two hours for a response, and I end up

falling asleep with the phone cradled against my
chest. Come morning, the phone’s still in the same
spot, but Melody is gone, and then the panic
returns.

Twelve

Jasper

Usually, I dread the end of summer and the start of
a new school year. The alarm wails, and I smack it
and grunt and groan about how I’d rather stay
asleep. Today, that doesn’t happen. Instead of being
pissed off about losing my freedom, I’m up before
the alarm, showered, and ready to go earlier than
ever. It’s senior year, and I finally get to see
Winnie.

She’s been at Sunshine Place for two weeks.

Two long weeks of no contact and zero
communication. I’ve tried texting and calling, and I
stole Ace’s car and drove by the house a couple of
times one day. But there were no signs of her at the
house, and she hasn’t responded to any of my calls
or texts. I knew there was a chance her phone
could get taken away and that she’d be under close
watch until she adjusted, but I never expected it to

be this hard to go without her.

Waiting for my phone to light up is driving me

crazy. Now, I know how Trey must have felt and
why he asked me to message him from the hospital.
I went from seeing her twenty-four hours a day,
seven days a week to wondering if she’s still living
in the same town.

Winnie’s disappeared, and I need her back.
I walk to school in half the time it usually takes,

mostly because I’ve never had a reason to hurry,
and then stand out front, watching each bus as it
pulls up and lets off another load of people. She
finally steps off bus three hundred, and it’s like
Christmas and the Fourth of July wrapped into one.
My pulse skyrockets, and my stomach dips to the
ground. She sees me, and I’m rewarded with the
biggest smile she’s ever given me.

Winnie runs straight for me, throws her arms

around my neck, and then buries her face against
my chest. I know she’s sniffing my shirt for that
dryer-sheet smell she loves so much, and it makes
me laugh.

“I’ve missed you, Winnie.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she says softly. “Can we

skip? I just want to talk to you all day. Maybe we
can take a walk around the trailer park or
something.”

She wants to search for Trey.
“I don’t think he’s living in his trailer anymore.”

“What?”
“Trey.”
Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she

searches for the right thing to say. I try to say it for
her because, as much as it bothers me, I get it. She
misses him.

“If I knew, I’d tell you the truth.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. But we can’t skip on the first day.

The school would call the home, and you’d get in
trouble. You have people watching out for you now.
You have to play it safe. Let me see your
schedule.”

She pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of her

pocket and hands it to me. Not a single class
together.

“We have the same lunch period. Meet me

outside the girls’ locker room—the door near the
cafeteria, not the one into the lobby.”

“Okay. Would you believe I have a packed

lunch in my bag?” she says with a smirk. “Cindy
seems to think food’s an issue for me. She won’t let
me leave home without some.”

“It is an issue, Winnie. You were practically

starving when you lived with Tess.”

She takes her eyes off me and grabs her

schedule out of my hands. I wasn’t trying to offend
her, but it’s the truth. Winnie had so little, and I’m
glad she has food, a warm bed, and a house without

dealers and drugs wandering through it at all hours
of the night.

Her smile’s gone though, and her voice is sad

when she says, “We should get to class, Jasper.”

I take her by the hand, and her arm stiffens. The

eyes of fifty people are on her, staring her up and
down. I expected they’d all gawk and probably ask
her a bunch of stupid questions, too. But Winnie
looks like she wasn’t expecting to be noticed.

“You were shot. Word spreads fast in a small

town.”

Her arm relaxes, but she grips me tighter with

her hand. “I didn’t think they’d care. Or that they’d
even know who I was.”

“Don’t pay attention to the shit they say. If

anyone gives you a hard time, just go to the office.”

“I’ve handled worse, Jasper. This is a cake walk

compared to living with Tess.”

Alex Drayden, the biggest jock in the school

with an equally loud mouth, taps Winnie on the
back of her head with a folder, messing her hair up.
“Good choice, tough girl,” he says. I think he’s
referring to me.

Her cheeks flush, and she looks up at me and

then away again, but she doesn’t let go of my hand
as we walk inside. I take that as a good sign.

“What was that about?”
“Nothing,” she says. “He’s just being a pain,

like everyone else in this school.”

He wasn’t being a pain. The move with the

folder was playful—something a friend would do to
another friend, one they might even like. I didn’t
realize they knew each other. I definitely haven’t
seen them talk before.

I want to ask Winnie some more questions, but I

decide to let it go because she tenses up again when
we walk down the hallway and get stared at again.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at lunch. Thanks for

waiting for me this morning, Jasper.”

I let go of her hand, and she ducks underneath

Alex’s arm to get into her first period class. He says
something to her, and she turns around and laughs.
The smile she gives him makes my breakfast roll
around in my stomach. I don’t like it. I don’t like
him. And I don’t know why they’re acting like
they’re friends.

Thirteen

Winnie

Mr. Fox doesn’t make us sit in alphabetical order,
like most of the other teachers. He uses the sit-
where-you’re-happy approach to keep us interested
in his lecture. I choose the seat by the window, so I
can look outside when I’m bored, which will
probably be in five minutes. Dray high-fives one of
the guys from the team, but he doesn’t follow him
to the same row. He walks to the other side of the
room, where I’m sitting, and chooses to sit directly
behind me. It’s a strange enough choice that he gets
a couple of strange looks from his friends.

“Turn around,” he whispers.
I grab the syllabus from the kid in front of me,

take one, and then turn around to hand the rest to
Dray. When I do, the girl next to me stares. She
stares so hard, I think she’d pass out if I told her I
lived under the same roof as Dray. But I’ve learned

that living with Dray is exhausting.

The others in the house have kept their distance,

and I’m okay with that. I’m not looking to make
friends or get involved in their lives any more than
they want to be in mine. It’s safer that way, easier
to hide behind my hair and pretend I feel nothing.

For some reason, Dray’s always interested in

what I’m doing. He knocks on my door after dinner
each night and asks for a rundown of my day even
though he was around for most of it. The first day
or two, I struggled to look him in the eye. He knew
who I was, and I was certain he had ulterior
motives. Why else would he suddenly care?

It was odd though. The more he pried, the more

I talked. That’s never happened before. Usually, if
someone got too close, I’d shut down and have a
panic attack. The only way to stop the
embarrassment was to lock myself in the bathroom
and close the door. I’d come out after I marked the
shame on my body, so I’d never forget what a
failure I was. Anxiety is a bitch, and so is the
depression that follows.

Dray didn’t let me look away though. He forced

the eye contact with his jokes and stupid one-liners.
I was sure they worked on most girls at school,
making him a gifted jock genius, but with me, I
wasn’t sure where it left us. Acquaintances?
Friends? Probably just housemates.

I’ve tried talking to Raven a couple of times, but

she’s always with Matty, and he creeps me out. I’m
pretty sure the two of them were humping like
bunnies in the laundry room this morning before
Cindy and Doug made it downstairs for breakfast.
It’s no wonder they got caught on the kitchen table;
they don’t even try to be quiet.

Hannah and Chance are the youngest in the

house, and they stick together. Dray said they were
actually twins and came from some fancy private
school I’d never heard of. It surprised me a little,
mostly because their parents have money. I can’t
imagine what was so bad that they couldn’t stay. In
my world, money is happiness, and with a little bit
of it, anything is possible.

Then, there’s Melody. She’s just like her name—

constantly creating new songs and perfecting them
on her piano. I found some earplugs, so I can get a
break at night when she wakes up, inspired, at three
in the morning. But I get it. That’s how I used to be
about my design stuff—before I had to worry about
money for supplies and keeping my projects hidden
in the back of my closet.

So, that leaves me with Dray. The one person I

thought I’d never speak to won’t leave me alone.

“What do you want?” I ask him.
“That’s a loaded question, Winnie. You sure you

want me to answer?”

“Don’t try that flirty shit with me,” I tell him as

I turn back around. “I didn’t want to talk to you in

the first place.”

Laughing, he leans forward until I can feel his

breath on the back of my neck. “I know you don’t
mean that, Sunshine.”

The nickname’s just a stupid reference to where

we live, a little secret we share that nobody else
knows.

But I still turn around and act pissed off, so

nobody gets suspicious. “Don’t call me Sunshine,
Alex.”

It’s a low blow, and I immediately regret saying

it. Dray hates being called Alex because he was
named after his dad. Nobody here knows the
disgust he feels though. They all think he has the
perfect life of privilege, being full of talent, and not
having a care in the world. He’s living a total lie,
just like me.

“Why do you go by Dray?” I asked him on my

second night in the home.

We were sitting on the deck, drinking lemonade

out of fancy glasses, and I felt like a queen in her
castle because there were ice cubes in my glass.

“Because I hate my first name.”
“Why?”
“It’s my dad’s name. He’s the reason I’m here.”
I hesitated, unsure if I should ask any more

questions. If it were me, I’d want him to shut up
and pretend like everything was fine. But, for some

reason, I wanted to know the truth. I needed to
hear Dray’s story for what it was—awful and real.
Maybe so mine wouldn’t feel as shameful.

“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shrugged his shoulders and then scooted a

little closer to me. I wasn’t sure why he had done it,
but I let him.

Normally, I’d cringe if someone got too close,

but I didn’t that night. My heart didn’t thump in my
chest, and my palms didn’t get sweaty. I could
swallow normally and keep drinking my lemonade
like I was actually normal. It felt really strange,
like I didn’t know my own body anymore.

Then, Dray started talking—like he wanted to,

not because he had to. “My dad’s an alcoholic. He
drinks every night until he blacks out. Each
morning, he wakes up and has no idea how a hole
got punched in the wall or why I had a black eye
and wouldn’t look at him. He thought I was out on
the

streets,

causing

trouble

and

being

disrespectful. I’d get grounded for things I didn’t
do, like the holes in the drywall and the broken
windows. One time, he thought I’d stolen his car
and wrecked it. He didn’t even remember driving it
into the tree next to the garage. I don’t have any
brothers or sisters, so it’s always my word against
his.”

“Where’s your mom?”
“Dead,” he said with little emotion. “I never

knew her, and Dad wouldn’t talk about her. I used
to ask a ton of questions, but they just made him
get drunker faster, so I stopped trying. He found
me looking through boxes in the attic one night,
and I think I found pictures of her. He burned
everything in the boxes that night.”

“That’s intense.”
“It gets worse. I’d confronted him and tried to

stop him. He pulled a knife on me and chased me
around the kitchen until I pushed him through the
sliding glass door. He was bleeding pretty badly,
and I was afraid he’d die. So, I picked up the
phone, and I called for help. I knew that call would
change things. How could I hide the fact that he
was drunk and bleeding, and there was a huge pile
of ash burning in the backyard? But I swear, I
wasn’t trying to kill him.”

“I believe you, Dray.”
He was quiet while he finished his lemonade,

and I thought the conversation was over.

Then, he chucked the glass into the yard and

smashed it. “I think I wanted to kill him, Winnie.
I’ve never said that out loud, but I’ve thought
about it. All those times I walked around, bruised
and sore, I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. I
wanted him to suffer.”

“What happened after the ambulance came?”
“It was either jail or rehab. He chose rehab. He

wanted nothing to do with me, so I came here. I

haven’t spoken to him since.”

Dray had been at the home for only six months.

His wounds were still fresh.

I wanted to tell him I understood, that I’d

wished someone dead, too. But I couldn’t get the
words out. Especially when he looked at me and
saw me. He saw my truths all hidden beneath my
skin. But he didn’t know what they were or how
deep they cut, and I knew I had to keep it that way
—for now.

I’m sorry was the absolute worst thing I could

say to him, so I avoided that, too. I sucked in a
deep breath and told him the truth, “I hope he’s
miserable, sweating his ass off and throwing up.”

Dray laughed so hard, he knocked over my

glass and sent it rolling across the deck. I thought
he had expected the usual cookie-cutter response
his therapists had given him. Nothing about me
was cookie cutter. I didn’t fit in any mold, and I
probably never would.

“I knew I liked you,” he said once he could

speak.

Dray and I became friends that day because we

understood what it was like to fight your way
through hell. I had Jasper, and he was the most
supportive friend I’d ever had. Trey knew
everything about me, and I loved him with my
whole heart. But Dray understood my pain. He
knew what it was like to lose a parent and be

treated like shit by someone who was supposed to
love you. He knew how terribly that walk through
hell burned and that no amount of water could
ever douse the flames or camouflage the scars it’d
left behind.

I waited for Dray to ask for my story. You know,

since we were sharing and all. He didn’t, and I
thought that made me like him even more. But he’d
never know just how much I respected him. I
couldn’t get that close.

“You’re extra feisty today, Winnie. Does it have

anything to do with Jasper?”

From the second I stepped off the bus, I knew

Jasper would have all kinds of questions about
where I’d been, what I’d been doing, and why I
hadn’t called him or texted him. I knew he’d want
to know why Alex was paying attention to me and
why I didn’t seem to mind. I didn’t talk to the other
kids, especially not the popular ones. I kept to
myself, my head was always down, and I hid
behind a curtain of my hair.

Until today.
“Jasper’s been with me through some ugly shit.

Don’t give him a hard time, okay?”

He shakes his head and says, “I’m not like that,

Winnie. I don’t hate anyone.” His voice trails off as
he focuses on the syllabus lying on the desk. It
might as well be written in German because he

doesn’t comprehend a single word of it.

His mind’s racing, and he’s trying to keep his

shit together. I can tell because his knee’s bouncing,
and he’s starting to sweat.

“Nobody hates you either, Dray.”
Not even his dad. Mr. Drayden didn’t drink

because he hated his son. He drank because he
loved him, and he didn’t know what to do with that.
Love can be taken away in the blink of an eye. It
happened with his mom, and it could happen with
Dray, so staying mad at God is easier. Hate’s
always easier than love.

“Thanks, Sunshine.”
“You’re the shit around here. How about you

start acting like it, so I can go back to thinking
you’re an asshole?”

He laughs at my sarcasm, and I turn back

around, satisfied that he’ll make it through the
period without an anxiety attack.

“Just so you know, Winnie, I saw your schedule

on the kitchen table. It’s the same as mine. I think
Cindy had something to do with it, so her little
soldiers wouldn’t be alone.”

Mr. Fox takes his place at the podium, and I

stare out the window.

What the hell am I going to do with Dray up my

ass all day long? Jasper will assume the worst
because nobody ever pays attention to me, and I
don’t pay attention to them. A single smile or laugh

toward Dray could ruin everything—exposing Dray
and messing things up for me with Trey.

I try to convince myself that everything’s okay

until a motorcycle pulls up outside the window, and
Trey’s staring toward the classroom. He catches the
attention of the entire row, and my stomach flip-
flops a dozen times.

Bending to unzip my backpack, I nudge Dray’s

desk, and he stops doodling on his folder.

What? he mouths.
“I need your help,” I whisper.
“Anything,” he says.
Anything.
I’m not sure he’s ready to lie to Cindy and Doug

for me, and it’s wrong of me to even ask, but I have
to see Trey. Today.

I type out a quick text to Trey and send it. My

heart races as I toss the phone back to the bottom
of my bag. I have no idea if he’ll show up or if he
can see me today. But I’m going to try anyway.

Fourteen

Winnie

“You’re going where?” Dray asks as Jasper walks
away from the bus.

I only got on to make it look like I was going

home. I didn’t want to give Jasper any reason to
worry about where I was going or what I was doing.
Even though he’s headed in that direction, he
wouldn’t want me near the trailer park or walking
around anywhere close to The Whip, looking for
Trey.

“I thought you had practice today? You practice

every afternoon.”

“Coach has a funeral, and a bunch of the

assistants are going. We have the day off.”

“Figures.” I have the worst luck. The day I see

Trey and decide to make a move, plans change.
“Just tell Cindy and Doug that I stayed after school
to meet with the guidance counselor, like they

wanted me to. If they ask questions, just make your
answers believable.”

Dray grabs my arm before I stand and says,

“They’ll buy it, but what happens when they want
to follow up with the counselor? Then, what are
you going to do?”

I didn’t think of that. Actually, it did cross my

mind, but for once, I didn’t want to analyze the hell
out of the situation. I just want to find Trey and
then get back to the home before it gets too late.

“I guess I’ll deal with that if it happens. I can’t

control what they do.”

“But you can control what you do, Winnie.

You’re not in trouble, are you?”

He sounds like Jasper, and I don’t need another

Jasper breathing down my neck. I know Jasper
cares, and I appreciate it, but I need some space. I
need my freedom back, and that means seeing Trey
whenever he’s around.

“No. I’m not in any trouble. But I have to go.

The driver’s getting ready to pull out.”

“How are you going to get home?”
“I’ll call for a ride, or I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”
I already know that, if I find him, Trey will drive

me home—as close to the house as he can get
without being seen.

Dray lets go of my arm, and I sneak off the bus

right before the driver gets on.

He gives me a weird look, like I should be going

in the opposite direction, but I tell him, “I forgot
something. I’ll just walk today.”

He doesn’t say another word and lets me go.

When I’m far enough away from school that I
won’t run into any of the teachers, I open my bag
and pull out my phone. I expect to see Trey’s name,
but there’s nothing. No missed calls. No texts. Just
an old voice mail I forgot to erase. Disappointed
but not surprised, I take the usual walk toward the
trailer park—the one I’ve made so many times, I
could do it with my eyes closed. And, with each
step I take, I run my fingers over the key to Trey’s
trailer, letting the metal teeth dig into my palm.

By the time I make it to The Whip, my shins

burn, and my back aches from the books I’ve been
carrying around. I keep my eyes on the traffic while
listening for Trey’s bike.

Once I round the corner and step into the

parking lot, time stands still. I can feel the gravel
and glass stuck to my cheek and the warmth
pooling around me. My teeth chatter like they did
as the darkness creeped up on me. Sinking to the
ground, I touch the stain left behind by my blood.
The magnitude that I almost died here, in this exact
spot, slams into me like the bullet.

The pain knocks the wind out of me, and I sit

back on my heels, struggling to keep the tears from
falling. If I had just waited and figured out a new
plan with Jasper, I wouldn’t have been anywhere

near the gun.

If Ace hadn’t agreed to let me take Tess’s place

onstage that night, I wouldn’t have run down the
alley, wearing next to nothing.

I wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the

wrong time.

If I had been with adults who weren’t high on

drugs and drunk from alcohol, there wouldn’t be
scars all over my body, inside and out.

If.
My entire life revolves around a two-letter

word.

If Mom hadn’t left…
If Tess hadn’t come into Dad’s life…
If Dad hadn’t died…
Every terrible thing that’s ever happened to me

snowballed from another. Somewhere along the
way, the chain had to break, and I guess it did once
I got to the hospital. But where did I end up? Back
where I’d started. Back where the damage had
been done.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, staring at the

ground. It doesn’t feel like more than a couple of
minutes, but when I raise my head, a couple of
people from The Whip are standing by the back
door. One of them must have gotten Ace because
he’s headed toward me with a concerned grimace.

“Stand up, Winnie,” he says gently. “I figured

you’d be back at some point, but I was hoping

you’d bring my brother.”

“I didn’t know I was coming here. I just kind of

ended up in this spot.”

He walks me to the picnic table by the back

door, and everyone who was watching scatters
back into the building. I had my first meal with
Jasper at this table. It seems so long ago, but it
really wasn’t long at all. So much has changed since
then, but I’m still not much happier.

“Now that you’ve been here, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Ace. I promise I won’t break down in

your business and cause any more trouble than I
already have. I was walking, and things just got
intense. Once I stopped, I couldn’t move.”

“Where’s my brother? He would have wanted to

be here for this.”

“Probably at home. I left school after he did.

This wasn’t planned. Just needed a walk to clear
my head.”

He waits until I look at him, and then he says,

“This is the last place that’ll clear your head,
Winnie. So, whatever you’re doing, make sure it’s
worth it. Don’t blow it with your new home.”

Ace isn’t stupid. He knows there’s only one

thing that would bring me back here—one person
who has complete control over my heart. And it’s
not his brother.

At the home, Cindy and Doug care about us, but

I need my freedom, too. Tess was a terrible parent.

She didn’t try, and I wished I’d had someone who
did. Now that I have two people looking out for me,
making sure I eat and that I’m healthy, I wish I had
less. That makes me sound so ungrateful, but what I
want isn’t going to change. Cindy and Doug won’t
approve of Trey. I don’t think there’s an adult who
would—at least one with decent morals and values.
But I’ve never had a normal life. My morals and
values are skewed, and wanting him doesn’t make
me a bad person. It makes me human and real. I’ll
always want to be with Trey.

“I’m fine, Ace. I promise. I’ll go home now.”
Ace nods, but he doesn’t believe me, especially

when I walk toward the trailer park instead of the
bus stop to get on the only bus that’ll take me back
toward my side of town.

“Be careful, Winnie!” he yells across the lot.
I hear him, but I don’t turn around. Careful

won’t get me Trey. Careful will get me a ticket back
to Sunshine Place and a life that isn’t fully my own.

Putting one foot in front of the other, I keep my

eyes on Trey’s trailer, ducking in and out of the
bushes each time a different neighbor pops out of
their house. Only when the coast is clear do I pull
the key out of my pocket, slide it in the lock, and
turn. Exhaling when it opens, I’m thankful the lock
wasn’t changed.

Once inside, I set my bag down on the kitchen

table and take a look around. The trailer’s as

sparsely decorated as it was the last time I was here
with generic furniture and next to nothing on the
counters. Other than a little bit of dust on top of the
coffee table, it’s clean. I check the bathroom for
soap and toilet paper, and there’s even a tube of
toothpaste on the edge of the sink. All of these
things give me hope that Trey will be back. But his
bed doesn’t look like it’s been slept in, and the dull
ache in my chest returns. Thoughts of him sleeping
someplace else with another woman—a woman his
age who’s old enough to give him what he needs—
weasel their way into my heart.

When I pull back the covers and rest my head

on his pillow, I get a whiff of his cologne and feel a
little better. Surely, if I can still smell it, he was here
not long ago. Being wrapped up in his scent is the
closest I’ve felt to him since he held my hand at the
hospital and told me he’d be back for me. He
wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t meant it.

But a half hour of waiting turns into an hour,

and then the worrying’s all for nothing. My favorite
sound pulls in the driveway, and then I hear the
jingle of keys and his boots against the linoleum as
he walks back down the narrow hallway, toward
the bedroom.

It’s so quiet, I can hear the teeth of his zipper

part as he opens his leather jacket and sheds it.
When his footsteps stop, he’s standing in the
doorway, his eyes raking over my body.

I want to jump out of bed and into his arms, like

I’ve done so many times before, but seeing Trey
after all these weeks feels different. The energy
quickly shifts from want to need as he takes careful
steps toward me.

When he’s standing in front of me, I tilt my head

back and tuck one of my fingers into the front
pocket of his jeans. “I missed you,” I whisper.

I expect the same in return, but I don’t get it.
Instead, his voice is tough, like he’s talking to

one of his clients and not his girl. “You shouldn’t be
here,” he says. “It’s not safe anymore.”

“When I texted you, I told you I was coming. I

figured, when you didn’t respond, you were okay
with it.”

“What if I hadn’t shown? You’d have been here

all alone, and anyone could have gotten to you,
Winnie.”

“But that didn’t happen. You came, just like I

knew you would.”

He’s nervous. Trey’s never been nervous around

me. Confident, yes. Scared, no.

“Next time, I’ll meet you wherever you want

me to. Someplace safer if you don’t want me here.”

His brows rise toward his hairline, and I’ve

never done that either. Surprising Trey is hard.

“You want a next time?” he asks. “Even after

what happened here?”

“Nothing happened here. All the bad stuff

happened across the street and at The Whip. I’m
happy here, Trey. But I don’t want a next time. I
want forever.”

He closes his eyes and pulls me until I’m

standing. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he
tightly holds me around my waist. His squeeze is as
hard as mine.

God, I’ve missed him.
“Are they good to you? At the home?”
I pull back far enough to see his face and cup

the back of his neck with my hands. His skin’s so
soft and smooth, and he’s tan from riding his bike.

“Cindy and Doug are strict, but living there is

good so far. I have food and a place to sleep, so I
can’t really complain. The hardest parts are not
being able to come and go when I want and not
seeing you.”

“We knew that would be a challenge, no matter

where you went.”

“I know.”
I don’t think he’d be able to live with himself if

I were in another unhappy home and he couldn’t do
anything about it.

“You get along with the other kids?”
I hate when he calls them kids. It makes me feel

young and makes him seem so much older than he
really is.

“They’re fine. I go to school with one of them.”
“How jealous is Jasper?”

“How’d you know it was a guy?”
“Look at you, Winn. You’re gorgeous. There’s

always going to be a guy.”

This time, I know I’m blushing. It’s there,

splattered across my face for him to see.

“The only guy I want is standing right in front of

me. Jasper and Dray are just friends.”

Trey swallows and says, “I don’t know if I’ll

ever get used to hearing you say those words.”

“I’ll say them until you believe me. Just treat me

like you would if I wasn’t Winnie. Treat me like the
other women you’ve been with.”

“If I did that, I’d hate myself. You’re special,

Winn. And I want you. God, do I want you, but we
have to be patient.”

“Why?”
I run my hands across his shoulders and down

his arms. He shivers when I get to his hips, so I
lightly tickle my fingertips beneath the band of his
jeans, hoping for even more of a reaction. I get one.

“Only we’ll know the truth, and we won’t tell

anyone else. It’ll be our secret for a couple of more
months.”

“You deserve to be more than a secret.”
“Let me decide what I deserve, okay? If I

wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t be here. You know
that.”

“I do. You’re the most determined, stubborn girl

when you want to be.”

“Are you seeing someone else?” I don’t know

why I ask him. Maybe because my biggest fear in
life is time. I’m afraid all the waiting will make me
lose Trey.

“What made you ask that?”
“This place looks nothing like your apartment in

the city. And I’m not across the street anymore.
There’s nobody for you to watch and no reason for
you to stay here.”

He brushes his lips over mine and sucks the

bottom one into his mouth. “You’re my reason for
everything, Winn. I don’t always sleep here.
Sometimes, I spend a couple of hours here just to
feel closer to you, and other times, I stay away
because I can still feel you across the street.
Everything in the trailer park reminds me of where
you’ve been and who hurt you. Being here is a
double-edged sword. But I couldn’t get rid of it
because of moments like these.”

His answer gives me goose bumps, but he didn’t

answer the question, not entirely.

So, I ask it in a different way, the most direct

way I can think of, and I decide I’ll be okay with
whatever response I get, no matter how bad it hurts
to hear. “Are you sleeping with anyone, Trey?”

His eyes change from adoring to stormy, and he

grabs my face and crashes his lips against mine. It’s
the most unforgiving kiss I’ve ever been given. It’s
the best kiss I’ve ever had.

My scalp prickles when his fingers work their

way through my hair, and we get spun around until
I’m pressed up against the closet door. I jump a
little when he lifts me under my ass, and then I
wrap my legs around his waist. The gentle grind of
his hips sets me on fire. Suddenly, I can’t get close
enough to Trey.

The little groans and whimpers that sneak out of

me only make him move faster until we’re spun
around again, and I’m flat on my back on the bed.
Trey hovers over me and looks at me like he’s
never looked at me before. If I’d known I’d get that
kind of reaction, I’d have asked him a long time
ago.

“There’s nobody else,” he says. “Just you,

Winn.”

I believe every syllable that comes out of his

mouth. “Touch me, Trey. Just this once, break your
rules.”

Other than the time we showered together,

Trey’s never tried to push the limits or venture into
the gray areas—those foggy areas where touching
becomes taking, and then it leads to giving. I want
him to go there more than anything, so I try to
make it easier for him. I decide to make the first
decision, and I pop the button on his jeans. He lets
me pull the zipper down, and then I slide my hand
inside, running my palm up and down his length.

“Winn, you need to stop. What you’re doing is

wrong.”

That’s where he’s wrong. Nothing has ever felt

as good in my hand as him. The only way it could
get better is if he was touching me at the same time,
so I take his open palm and press it between my
legs.

At first, he doesn’t move. He just cups me and

breathes hard into the crook of my neck. If I were
anyone else, he wouldn’t hold back.

“Don’t make me a mistake, Trey. Just touch me

like I want you to.”

“You’re not a mistake, Winn. You’re perfect.

But, if you regret this, if you regret us, I won’t be
able to live with myself.”

“No regrets,” I whisper.
My phone chimes from my pocket, and Trey

stops kissing me.

“Check it.”
“Cindy doesn’t have my number. She doesn’t

know about the phone. It’s probably just Jasper.”

I pull Trey closer and kiss the edge of his mouth.

He groans, and his hand moves without me asking.
His fingers inch toward my waistband, and then
they skim across the sensitive skin beneath my
belly button.

Another text, and then another follows that one.

The goofy ringtone Jasper uses for when he calls
starts playing, and it’s impossible to ignore.

“Answer it,” Trey says with a hint of

annoyance.

I’m annoyed, too, because I don’t want this to

end.

“Only if you don’t stop.”
“Answer it,” he says again.
I grab the phone and say, “Hello?”
Trey sits up, and I grab him.
Please, I mouth.
“Winnie? You there?”
It’s not Jasper.
“How’d you get my number, Dray?”
That gets Trey’s attention. He lays me down and

kisses my neck hard, sucking my skin into his
mouth. His fingers pinch my nipple, and my hips
buck from the sting of pain and then the pleasure
that follows. I like jealous Trey. He doesn’t make
me beg.

“Jasper’s called me twice, Winnie. I have no

idea how he even got my number, but he said you
weren’t answering his texts. He asked to talk to
you, and it slipped out that you weren’t here. I’m
sorry.”

“What’d you tell him?”
“I told him you were with Cindy, but I’m not

sure he bought it. I just wanted you to know in case
you run into him. Wherever you are.”

“Thanks, Dray.”
“Call Cindy soon. Don’t make me look bad.”
“I will,” I tell him. “I promise.”

And then I hang up without saying good-bye

because Trey’s hand sneaks down my pants, and he
circles my clit. The phone slides out of my hand
from the little bit of pressure.

“Who was that?” he asks.
“Dray. From the home. The one I told you I go

to school with. He’s covering for me.”

“Do I need to worry about him?”
“Not even a little.”
Dray might be one of the most popular kids at

school, but he has nothing on Trey. Trey’s the only
one who can touch me and mean it. The only one
who makes it hard for me to breathe just from a
simple look and an unexpected touch.

“I’ll make you feel good, and then I have to

take you home, Winn. Okay?”

All I can do is nod. Trey presses harder on my

clit and then rubs in faster circles. I ride his hand
and press his mouth against mine. It’s the most he’s
ever given me and still probably as PG as he’s ever
been with a woman.

I want to be more for him.
I need to give him what anyone else would.
But Trey won’t let me.
Afterward, he slides his hand out of my pants

and barely looks at me. He walks into the bathroom
and closes the door. I hear the water run, and then
he either kicks the wall or punches the door—I’m
not sure which.

I’m still shaking, but I get up and stand on the

other side of the door. Pressing my hands against
the wood, I whisper his name. Then, I say, “Trey,”
again, louder this time. “Let me in.”

The doorknob turns, and he’s standing in front

of me, looking as sexy as he’s ever looked.

“Don’t regret me,” I tell him.
“This guilt, Winn. What I just did to you is

against the law. Don’t you get that? If anyone ever
found out…if you slipped just once—”

“You’d go to jail. I know. But I’ll never tell,

Trey. I’ll be your secret.”

He reaches for me and pulls me against his

chest. Then, he kisses the top of my head and runs
his hands down my back and over my butt. “My
job is to protect you.”

“No, your job is to love me.”

Fifteen

Jasper

I’m steps from Trey’s door, trying to listen for signs
that Winnie’s inside.

When my brother called, telling me Winnie had

just left the parking lot at The Whip, I knew I had
to find her. I ran two laps around the trailer park
and then one around the block at The Whip. There
was no sign of Winnie, and I wasn’t sure where to
look next until Trey’s bike sped past. I couldn’t run
fast enough to keep up with him, but I had a feeling
he was headed to his trailer. And, if he was there,
chances were, Winnie was, too.

From the driveway, I can’t see much, so I walk

around back and get a better view of the bedroom.
I think I see two shadows, and then I hear a thud.
Winnie is inside. She has to be. Nobody else ever
goes inside with Trey.

Panicking, I start making calls to get my hands

on Dray’s number, but I don’t have much choice.
Finally, after three attempts, I weasel Dray’s
number away from his tutor. She’s in my math
class, and I’m pretty sure she has a crush on me.

Dray is cool when I call. He has no idea I am

huddled in the corner of Trey’s yard, trying not to
get stung by one of the bees flying around my head.

I tell him I need him to call Winnie for me.
All he says is, “You’ve got it bad, Jasper.”
I don’t argue. Because I do have it bad for

Winnie. And I care that she is inside with Trey, all
alone.

Dray agrees to help me out and call her, but I

don’t know if it does any good.

After waiting another hour, Winnie leaves the

trailer with Trey, hand in hand. They get on his
bike, and I watch as she wraps her arms around his
waist. He squeezes her thigh and then slides his
helmet over his head.

I’m not stupid. I know that squeeze is more than

a sense of security. Winnie is already holding on,
and I’m not sure I could ever get her to let go of
Trey.

I want her.
He has her.
And I have no idea what to do about that. All I

know is that it stings because I helped Trey out
when he needed me. I was there for Winnie when
she had nobody else. I don’t think it even matters.

Sixteen

Winnie

Trey drops me off two blocks from Sunshine Place,
and I climb off the back of his motorcycle, wishing
we had more time. The stretch of silence that
passes between us makes saying good-bye harder. I
don’t like having to plan our time together, and I
hate feeling like I’m being watched every second of
the day. It’s weird when people care.

“Thank you for meeting me,” I tell Trey. It

seems like the right thing to say even though I just
want to kiss him and beg him to take me back home
with him—wherever home is these days.

He gives me one of his crooked smiles, and I’m

close to climbing back on the bike. We could get
pretty far away from Sunshine Place by morning.
And I’d do anything to feel his hands on me again.
And I can see in Trey’s eyes how much he wants
that, too.

Especially when he says, “You don’t need to

thank me. I always want to see you.”

“Tomorrow? Same place and time?”
He messes with the zipper on his jacket. Leather

has never looked so good. “We can’t make it a
habit, Winn. You have to be careful.”

Careful isn’t in my vocabulary. Not when it

comes to Trey. I’m all in, and I’ll sneak out and
then sneak back in if I have to. Cindy and Doug
can’t keep me away from him.

“Then, I guess I’ll be your secret and your

habit.”

A laugh gets caught in his throat, and then he

shakes his head. A few longer pieces of hair flop
onto his forehead, and he blows them away.
Watching him is as sexy as touching him.

“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
He wraps his hands around the throttle and

squeezes until his gloves stretch across his
knuckles. “Like you want me to bend you over and
spank you.”

My muscles tighten, and I think I might melt

into the sidewalk if I stand here much longer. I can
practically feel the bite of the leather against my
bare skin. “I think I’d like that.”

“You’re trouble. And I need to go before I do

something that’ll get me arrested.”

I like being trouble. His trouble. Mostly, I like

the way he makes me feel—like I’m important, I
matter, I’m worth his time and attention, and I’m
special. I’ve never felt those things before.

“Tomorrow?” I ask him again. I can’t leave until

I have plans set in stone or else I won’t be able to
sleep.

He thinks about it for a second and then says,

“Okay. The trailer after school. But, if you can’t get
there without getting noticed, I want you to go
straight home. Don’t risk getting caught for me.”

The taste of victory is sweet. “I won’t.”
“Promise me, Winn.”
“I promise.”
I’d risk it all for Trey. He knows that, and I think

that’s why he’s so scared. I’m just as scared though
because being with him means more to me than my
new life. My life isn’t real without him in it.

“See you tomorrow.”
Trey speeds away in a cloud of dust, kicking up

some gravel, and I wait for it to settle before I turn
and walk toward the house, almost wishing I were
going to Tess’s trailer. What’s wrong with me? I
have a good home with all the bells and whistles.
For every meal, there’s food on the table, which I
didn’t have to cook. And I have a warm bed at
night without bugs or torn sheets. I should be
thanking my lucky stars, and all I want is to be
someplace else instead.

I tell myself it’ll get better. That, eventually, I’ll

look forward to walking into the home and actually
feel like I belong there.

Time.
Just like Cindy told me, adjustment takes time.
Melody’s sitting in the car with Doug, on the

way to her music class. I hang by the neighbor’s
mailbox until they’re gone, so I don’t have to talk
to them. When they’re out of sight, I sneak in the
side door, hurry through the garage, and then into
the kitchen. Chance, Hannah, Raven, and Matty
are sitting around the kitchen table, doing
homework. I don’t know if this is the usual after-
school thing, but the fact that Dray isn’t with them
makes my stomach churn. He’s the only one who
knows I wasn’t at school. He’s the one I need to
talk to first.

“Where’s Cindy?” I ask.
Raven gives me one of her fake smiles and says,

“Looking for the princess of the house.”

She’s the only princess who lives here. Hannah

and Melody barely talk, and when they do, it’s
never bad. But Raven doesn’t scare me. I’ve dealt
with girls like her my whole life.

Raven actually reminds me a lot of Tess. Selfish,

full of herself, thinks the world owes her something.
If she’s not careful, she’ll end up snorting lines of
coke to stay skinny and pumping her lips full of
filler to give better blow jobs for higher tips. With
her bad attitude, seventeen might be as good as it’s

ever going to get.

Matty gives Raven a look, one that tells her to

shut her mouth before it gets her in more trouble.
“Raven’s not trying to be a bitch,” he says. “She’s
just glad we’re not on the chopping block for
once.”

They should be.
“Oh, you mean, Cindy doesn’t know you two

had sex in the laundry room this morning? Maybe I
should fill her in.”

“You wouldn’t!” Raven squeals. Even her angry

voice is petty.

“Try me,” I tell her.
The office door opens, and Dray walks out with

his head down. I try to get his attention, but he goes
upstairs without looking at me.

Shit.
Cindy gives me a warm smile, but it doesn’t

reach her eyes like it usually does. “There’s food in
the fridge when you’re hungry, Winnie. Let me
know when you’re ready to eat, and I’ll heat it up
for you.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll start my homework first, if

that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” she says.
I hear the defeat in her words, like whatever just

happened with Dray shook her as much as it
bothered him.

“Thank you.”

I take the stairs two at a time and go straight to

Dray’s room. His door’s cracked, and I knock once,
not waiting for a response before I go into his room.
I expect to find him at his desk, doing his
homework like everyone else, but he’s sprawled
across his bed with his head buried in his arms. He
looks like he’s about to crash for the night.
Something’s not right.

“Dray?” I say softly. “Are you okay?”
“Not now, Winnie.” His words might be muffled

by the blankets, but I hear the pain loud and clear.

“Are you in trouble?”
He lifts his head, and I think his eyes might be

wet from tears, but maybe they’re just watering
from having them closed and pressed up against his
pillow.

“No,” he says. “But I don’t want to talk about it

right now.”

“Okay.”
Afraid to turn around or move too quickly, I

walk out of the room backward, keeping my eyes
on him the whole time. I know better than to push,
especially after he told me he didn’t want to talk
about it, but maybe a real friend would push.
Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do in this
situation. I’ve never had any real friends before. At
least, I think Dray’s a real friend. If he knew what I
did after school today and whom I was with, I’m
sure he’d avoid me, too.

Alone and by myself.
The note on Melody’s whiteboard says she’s at

her music lesson. She scribbles her plans on her
board, no matter if she’s leaving the house or
writing in the backyard. I think it’s either a safety
thing or some kind of abandonment issue. I haven’t
asked her about her story, and I probably never
will. Because, if she tells me, she’ll want me to talk
about mine. I can’t do that.

After I hang up my bag and plug my phone in

the charger, making sure to cover it with a pillow, I
take a hot shower and let the warmth run down my
body. God, I’ve missed hot water and showers that
I don’t have to race through. Showering in the
trailer felt like standing in the living room, naked,
an open invitation to be taken advantage of. Now,
when the doorknob rattles, I know it’s just one of
the other kids, waiting their turn. My heart still
races for those first few seconds, but then it passes,
and I can wash the shampoo out of my hair without
a full-blown anxiety attack.

After the shower, I glance at my reflection in the

mirror. It’s been a long time since I looked without
hating myself, and I’m okay until my eyes drift to
my legs. The scars on my thigh are at the ugly
stage. The scab looks like it wants to break open,
and it’s itchy and irritated from rubbing against
clothing. This is usually when I cave and cut them
back open, but the excitement of seeing Trey again

in less than twenty-four hours takes the urge away.
He’ll already be mad they’re fresh cuts. Making it
worse will cause a distraction, and then I’ll lose
time with him. Time that could be spent in bed or
with his lips on mine.

His touches and the way he gripped my waist

when he held on to me gets me through a couple of
chapters of boring homework while I eat leftovers
from dinner. Cindy really likes chicken. She puts it
in everything, and since it’s been so long since I
had any protein besides tuna fish, it hurts my
stomach.

The pains get so bad that, at one point, I toss my

books on the floor and pull the blanket over my
head. I want to know what’s bothering Dray, and
I’m tempted to go back to his room and ask, but
Melody comes home around bedtime, humming a
new song. I’m sure it’s one she worked on in her
music class, and I should ask her about it. All I
want to do is make the pain stop and go to bed.
Because, the sooner I close my eyes and fall asleep,
the sooner I’ll be with Trey again.

“You asleep, Winnie?” she whispers.
I can tell she’s hovering over me, and if I sit up,

we’d probably bang heads.

“I’m awake.”
She’s waiting for me to say something else, and

she’s breathing heavy enough to wake the dead.
“Are you okay?”

A long, silent pause, and then she says,

“Actually, can we talk for a minute?”

“Is this about Raven?” I ask as I toss the blanket

off and sit up.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she’s smiling.

Melody doesn’t smile much, only when a song
transports her to one of her rainbow-and-unicorn
heavens.

“No. I met someone.”
“Where? Music class?”
She shakes her head. “We got done early, so a

couple of us went to this coffee shop. My classes
are across the street from the hospital.”

The mention of the hospital makes my side

tingle, and I’m back on the ground with the blood.
But I keep my eyes on Melody and do what I do
best—pretend like I’m okay.

She rattles on about whom she was with and

then some guy who came in and sat next to her.
They talked about her guitar and her new song, and
he bought her a muffin since she already had
coffee.

I think she’s at the end of the story, so I tell her,

“I’m glad you had a good night.”

Then, she surprises me and says, “We made out

in the restroom.”

“Are you going to see him again?”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she says, “I asked

him that, too. And then it got weird. Turns out, he

has a girlfriend.”

“Maybe it won’t last. Nothing does in high

school. Are you in any classes together?”

“He doesn’t go to my school, Winnie. He goes

to yours. I thought you could help me out and see
who the girl is. Find out if it’s serious or not.”

“What’s his name?”
“Jasper. He’s a senior.”
All the blood rushes to my head, and I think I

might throw up. There’s only one Jasper in the
senior class. Hell, I think there’s only one Jasper in
the whole school. But what was he doing on the
other side of town at some coffee shop, kissing
strangers?

“I’ve never heard of him,” I tell Melody. “I’m

not sure I’ll be much help.”

“But you’ll at least try? I really like him,

Winnie. He was so sweet and told me how he was
there to get coffee for some old woman who works
at the hospital. I guess he had a sick friend, and she
helped him find his way to her. It’s all very sweet.”

The sick friend was me. Jasper never told me

about any old woman who’d helped him find me,
but I was unconscious for all of that. By the time I
woke up, he was so glad to see me that all we
talked about was how I felt and how he could make
me feel better. Melody’s absolutely right; Jasper’s
the sweetest. And I’ve never given him a real
chance because of Trey.

“I’ll see what I can find out, Melody. Get some

sleep.”

Her smile is so wide, I think she’s about to hug

me. The apprehension on my face stops her, and
she slides into bed and pops her earbuds in. The
flashlight illuminates under her covers, and she’s
already busy writing new sheet music for her next
masterpiece. I have a feeling this one’s going to be
about a boy named Jasper—my Jasper.

I type out a quick text to Jasper because I feel

guilty about lying to him this afternoon. I’ve lied to
him so many times since I moved into Sunshine
Place. This is where I’m supposed to be reinventing
myself and becoming a better person, yet all I do is
cover up one lie with another because I’m too
scared to tell my only friend that I made a new one.

Besides Trey, Jasper’s the most understanding

person I’ve ever met. He’d accept Dray the same
way I have, but until Dray speaks his truth, I’ll
never get to tell Jasper about who he really is.
Dray’s story isn’t mine to tell, and I understand
why he wants to keep it a secret.

Most days, I wish the shooting weren’t public

knowledge. At least then, I wouldn’t have to deal
with awkward glances and nervous smiles as I
walked the halls at school. I’d do anything to avoid
the pity.

Winnie: How was your night?

Ten minutes go by before my screen lights up

with Jasper’s name.

Jasper: Boring.

Winnie: What’d you do?

Jasper: Homework.

I stare at his incomplete truth for a couple of

minutes, unsure of what to say next. I’m sure he did
homework at some point, so it’s not a total lie but
more of an omission of guilt.

Winnie: That’s it?

Jasper: Yeah. Why? What was I supposed to do?
There’s nothing more I can say without flat-out

asking if he kissed Melody in a coffee shop across
town. I can’t ruin Melody’s chances, if she has one
with him, and I don’t have the guts to ask Jasper
why he called me his girlfriend. We’re not together.
We never have been.

Winnie: Nothing. Sorry.

Jasper: Are you okay?

Winnie: Tired.

Another omission.

Jasper: You’d tell me if you

weren’t okay, right?

Winnie: Yes.

A lie. But am I okay? No, I’m not. Jasper kissing

Melody means he could be kissing other people,
and that makes my chest ache for reasons I don’t
understand. I can’t like Jasper. Not when I’m in
love with Trey.

Can I?
You don’t care, Winnie.
But I do care. I care a lot, and I want to know

why he did it. Why did he kiss Melody and then tell
her he had a girlfriend? Whether I was real or not,
he was okay with her thinking he’d cheated.

Tomorrow, I’ll make it right with Jasper. I’ll tell

him the truth about going to see Trey, and I’ll ask
him about Melody. But, first, I need some sleep.

When I close my eyes, both Trey and Jasper are

there. My pleasant daydreams slowly turn into
nightmares.

The gun is pressed against my temple, and

Tess’s finger hovers over the trigger. She’s so close
to me, I smell the alcohol on her breath. Jax sits on
the corner of the sofa with a beer in his hand and
watches me like a movie.

“Do it already, baby,” he tells her.
Tess giggles and lowers the gun to her side.

Then, she snorts another line of coke off the

mirror. The higher she gets, the more she sways
from side to side. If she wasn’t sitting, I’m sure she
would fall over.

“Let me leave,” I beg her. “I have to get to

work.”

The silver sequined dress, gold stilettos, and

rhinestone hoop earrings are as cheap as I look.
My hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and
my lips are painted bright red. I’m a whore, but it
doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because everyone
at The Whip thinks I am pretty. I’m the star of the
show, the headliner Tess used to be.

“You’re a slut, Winnie.”
“You wish you were me,” I spit back.
Not a single name could take away my pride.

I’d made something out of nothing. I made Ace
more money than he knew what to do with, and he
loved me for it. His daughter lived in a huge house
and had a nanny. His mother had retired and lived
a life she’d dreamed of. All because I had taken my
clothes off.

Tess used the barrel of the gun to smack me

across the face. Blood gushed from my nose and
dripped down the front of my dress. Some sprayed
directly onto Tess’s prison jumpsuit. The red
clashed with the orange so terribly, I wished I had
some mustard to break up the insanity.

“It’s time to die, Winnie. I should have killed

you the first time,” she slurred.

The coke hit her hard, and the swaying turned

into full-blown rocking. She’d be lucky to hit the
back side of a barn with a bullet, let alone my
body. But I knew she’d try anyway.

I felt the warmth again. The same puddle grew

around me, and I ran my fingers through the
burgundy ripples, ready to be with my dad.

It was time.
I couldn’t fight anymore.
I didn’t want to.
The stage at The Whip had become my

paradise, but hell was swallowing me up.

“Winnie!”
I can hear my name, but it’s not coming from

Tess or Jax. Their faces slowly fade away until I
can’t see their huge pupils or gray skin anymore.
The stench of the smoke-filled trailer disappears,
and my neck aches. The nagging twinge of pain on
my arm won’t stop, and then my eyes are forced
open.

Dray’s shaking me, digging his fingertips into my

skin because I’m dead weight in his arms.

“Why am I on the floor?”
“You fell out of the bed. I think you were trying

to sleep walk.”

I’ve never walked in my sleep before. Even

when my mind was begging me to run away from
Tess, I always woke up in bed.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I try to stand on shaky

legs. My body’s trembling so bad, I wrap my arms
around my stomach and hold on to myself. “Was I
that loud? How’d you know?”

His room’s nowhere near mine.
“I fell asleep so early, I woke up and couldn’t go

back to sleep. I thought I’d heard something when I
got up to use the bathroom.”

I couldn’t have been that loud. Melody’s still

passed out in her bed. Granted, she sleeps with
earbuds in her ears, the music always playing, but I
think she would have heard me yell.

“Did I scream?”
“No,” he says. “I think you hit your head on the

wall, or maybe it was your knee. Whatever it was,
it scared the shit out of me.”

My head doesn’t hurt, so that couldn’t have

been it. And, through all the nightmares, I’ve never
actually hurt myself. That only happens while I’m
awake.

“You should go back to bed, Dray.”
He says, “Okay,” but he lingers next to me.
First, a finger and then a hand land on my

shoulder, and he squeezes. I know what’s coming
next—the pity.

“If you want to talk, I’ll listen. That makes me a

hypocrite, considering I didn’t take you up on your
offer earlier, but I mean it, Winnie. Whatever you
need. I don’t want you to be that scared ever

again.”

“I’m fine.” More lies, but I don’t talk about my

nightmares, not even with the therapists. The only
information I’ve ever given them is the little bit I
remember about the shooting. Nobody knows that I
can still feel the blood and glass and the searing
burn of the bullet as it tears through my skin. I
don’t think I could say those things out loud.
Feeling them is enough.

“I’ll be okay.”
I’ve said those words so many times, I’ve

stopped believing it is possible. Yet, every day, I
wake up. I fight. And I put one foot in front of the
other. I make a conscious decision to keep fighting.

Seventeen

Jasper

I didn’t sleep at all. Between kissing that girl in the
coffee shop and lying to Winnie about what I was
doing, my stomach’s in a giant knot.

The coffee shop was my hideout. I knew, if I sat

there long enough and watched the buses coming
and going, I’d see the woman who helped me find
Winnie. After never getting to properly thank her, I
wanted to let her know that Winnie had pulled
through.

Once I found her, I thought I’d feel better. But,

no matter how long I watched and waited, she
never came. I started to think I’d imagined her.
That my head was so screwed up from thinking that
Winnie was dead, I’d imagined the whole thing.
Maybe I had. Maybe that’s what hallucinating is
like.

So, I stayed at the coffee shop until it got dark,

just in case. I was on my third cup when a group of
kids my age walked in. They all sat down, and one
guy pulled out his guitar. The voice of an angel
woke me up, and when I looked at the girl next to
me, I was mesmerized.

“Can you pass me the sugar?” she said.
Six words, and I was drunk on her full lips and

hazel eyes. That hadn’t happened since I met
Winnie, but as much as I cared about that girl, she
wasn’t mine. There was a good chance she never
would be, and that pissed me off. I got so mad, I
took this angel by the hand and told her to follow
me.

Without a single question, she did as she had

been told. The restroom was empty. I pressed her
against the wall and kissed her lips so hard, my
teeth hit hers. Her tongue brushed against mine,
and she grabbed handfuls of my shirt. It was the
best first kiss I’d ever had, and I didn’t even know
her name.

When her eyes opened, she smiled. That was

gorgeous, too.

If I didn’t walk away, I’d do something stupid.

Something I’d regret and something that would hurt
her.

“What’s your name?”
“Melody,” she whispered. “Where are you

from?”

“Carillon,” I told her. “I’m a senior.”

Her giggle was sweet, and it made me want to

kiss her again.

“I have to go, Melody.”
“Wait.” She snatched my hand and said, “Don’t

you want my number?”

I did the only thing I could think of. The only

thing that would save me from admitting I might
want to talk to her again. I told her, “I have a
girlfriend.”

The disgust I expected didn’t follow.
She didn’t believe me. Instead, she said,

“What’s your name?”

There was no reason to lie; it wasn’t like a first

name could do much damage. So, I told her the
truth. “Jasper.”

“If you want to kiss me again, Jasper, come here

next week. Same time.”

The offer was tempting, but I wouldn’t show. I

couldn’t. Because I was still in love with Winnie.

Eighteen

Winnie

Raven’s her usual moody self in the kitchen the
next morning. She and Matty have the stools at the
island pushed out far enough that they’re blocking
the cereal.

“Don’t be a bitch,” I tell her. “Let me through.”
Even though I called her a bitch, I’m not even

mad. Not after last night. My head’s still spinning
about Jasper kissing Melody and then my time with
Trey. I can’t decide whether to be excited,
annoyed, upset, sad, or just plain confused. My
head and heart are usually on the same page. Right
now, they’re running in opposite directions for
different reasons.

“You think you’re safe because you’re new,”

Raven tells me.

“I don’t think that at all. But I also didn’t do

anything to make you hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Matty says. “Neither of

us hates anyone in this house.”

They sure do make it hard to believe that when

they come out, balls blazing, first thing in the
morning.

“Well, as soon as I eat, you won’t have to look

at me for the rest of the day.”

“Thank God,” Raven mutters under her breath.

“Though I would like to watch the show later.”

“What show?” I question.
“Let’s just say, you might want to rethink all

those fuck sessions you’ve been enjoying.”

My heart races, and the little hairs on the back

of my neck stand up. I forget about breakfast and
run out of the kitchen and up to my room like my
life depends on it. Maybe it does. If Cindy or
anyone in this house finds out about Trey, he’ll go
to jail. His life will be over because of me.

I think back to the cars that we passed and try to

remember if any of the neighbors saw me get off
the back of Trey’s bike. It’s all a blur though. I was
so caught up in the moment and the feel of his back
against my chest, I didn’t pay attention to the
details.

Still, I check my phone, expecting a slew of

texts from Trey. I assume nothing is a good sign and
then focus on Jasper. He wouldn’t tell on me.
There’s no way. But then I think about his kiss with
Melody. That kiss was so out of character for him. I

start to wonder if he did it out of guilt or jealousy.

Would he turn me in for the simple fact that I

want Trey more than I want him?

The thought alone makes my stomach ache.
Not Jasper, I tell myself. He’s not like that.
Breathe, Winnie. Raven and Matty only think

they know something. Trey and I are the only ones
who know the truth.

Cindy raps her knuckles on my door once, and I

chuck the phone in my bag.

“Time for breakfast, Winnie. You’ll be late.”
I don’t bother telling her I was already

downstairs. I just stand up and make it seem like
this will be the first time I’ve been downstairs
today.

Raven’s grinning like she cracked the code to

world peace while Matty seems disinterested.
Waiting for her to rat me out to Cindy, I bite my lip
and will the tears to stay locked up. I’ve been
through worse. Anything Raven throws at me, I can
handle.

Except losing Trey.
Dray steals the empty bowl from in front of me,

giving me a worried yet friendly smile.

I can’t tell if he knows or not, so I whisper to

Raven, “Did you tell Dray?”

“Um, I think he already knows.”
“What do I know?” Dray asks.
Before Raven can answer, Cindy and Doug

walk hand in hand into the kitchen. They’ve never
done that before, and alarm bells go off.
Considering I’m the only nervous one in the room, I
know their joined forces have to do with me. They
found out. What I can’t figure out is how Raven
knew. She doesn’t go to school with me or Jasper.
Dray barely talks to her, and when he does have a
conversation with her, Matty’s always around.

“Winnie and Dray, can we see you in the office,

please?” Doug says with his usual straight face and
authority.

This is so bad.
Dray sucks down the rest of the milk in his bowl

and places it in the dishwasher. He doesn’t look as
upset or nervous as he did yesterday when he was
hiding out in his room. He’s just kind of nonchalant
about the whole thing. And that makes me assume
he’s the one who ratted me out. He doesn’t know
about Trey, but he knew I was doing something I
wasn’t supposed to be doing. I’m so stupid to have
trusted him to cover for me.

“How could you, Dray?”
“What?” he says.
“I asked you to cover for me one time, and you

went and told Raven and Cindy. Did you tell them
about the nightmare, too?”

Dray looks like I slapped him. “I’d never say a

word about any of that, Winnie. What we tell each
other stays between us.”

“Why should I believe that?” I ask.
“Because it’s the truth. You’re the only friend I

have here. Up until you came, I was flying solo.”

“Then, what’s this meeting about? Raven’s

super proud of herself for something.”

I might have threatened to tell Cindy and Doug

about her laundry-room sex, but I only said it to
show Raven that she couldn’t walk all over me. I
learned early in life that, if you reveal the enemy’s
weakness first, you take away their power. So,
that’s what I did.

“If it came out of Raven’s mouth, it’s a lie. Let

me do the talking until we know what we’re up
against, okay?”

Nodding, I take a seat in the armchair by the

window. Dray sits beside me, and Doug and Cindy
sit behind the desk.

Cindy’s the gentle one. She doesn’t baby us, but

she understands the complicated lives we were
uprooted from when we came here. She doesn’t
treat us like projects the way Doug does. He’s the
disciplinarian, the one who handles the present
while his wife helps us through our pasts.

Doug clears his throat, and without a second of

hesitation, he says, “It’s been brought to our
attention that the two of you have been engaging in
some inappropriate late-night activities.”

“We haven’t snuck out. You do bed checks.

We’re always in them,” Dray says.

“We do bed checks before we fall asleep, yes.

But we’ve been led to believe it’s after that time
frame.”

“What is?” I ask.
Dray told me to let him do the talking, but the

less I say, the guiltier I’ll look.

Cindy stands and walks around the desk. She

perches on the corner and looks back and forth
between the two of us. “You do make a lovely
couple.”

“A what?” Dray asks.
“I do think you’d be good for each other, but we

can’t allow sexual intercourse between housemates.
You’re both underage, and though you’ll be
eighteen soon, we still can’t allow it. The
agreements you both signed when you agreed to
come here spelled this out in very easy-to-
understand terminology. If you’d like me to go into
further detail, I can, but we need you to stay in
your own rooms at night and sleep separately. If
you can’t do this, you’ll have to be reassigned.”

Everything before the last word is forgotten

when I hear reassigned. “You’re getting rid of us?”

“No! Of course not,” Cindy says. “Consider this

a warning that the behavior needs to change.”

Dray stands up and looks out the window. I wait

for him to set the record straight that we’ve never
touched, kissed, or had sex. The longer he takes,
the more I want to smack him in the back of the

head with my shoe.

“I can’t lose this placement,” I tell Cindy and

Doug. “Nobody else will take me because of my
age. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

They don’t believe me. Why would they? I’m

just some orphan girl who numbs her pain by
hurting herself. A girl who’s been through the worst
life can offer and keeps on going. Maybe life wants
me to give up. Why else would it keep throwing the
worst at me?

Life is the devil. Sooner or later, it’s going to

win.

“Winnie, we aren’t placing you anywhere else.

This is your home. All we ask is that the
relationship between you and Dray end.”

“No,” Dray says. “She’s all I’ve got.”
My neck turns so fast, I get dizzy. “Dray, we

didn’t have sex. Tell them that!”

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t believe us either

way. You’re my best friend in the house. It looks
bad, no matter what.” He turns around, and his
arms hang lifelessly by his sides.

Whatever he went through last night is still

weighing heavily on him. That much, I can see. But
I have no idea what he’s going to say next.

“We didn’t do it,” I tell Cindy again.
Throwing Raven and Matty under the bus is the

only thing that could save us right now. But Dray’s
right; why would they believe anything we said?

Outing them would only make my time here worse.
I can either let Raven have her moment of victory
and take the blame or I can make her hate me
more.

Try the truth, Winnie.
After a quick glance at Dray, I just want him to

feel better. He probably got bad news about his dad
last night, and now, he’s getting accused of
something he didn’t do.

“Dray was in my room last night. I had a

nightmare, and he got me out of it. It wasn’t pretty
—it never is—but I’m glad he came in. Because,
without him, I would have woken up on the floor,
all alone, thinking I got shot again.”

“Winnie was in my room, too. After the

conversation with you guys about my dad, I lost my
shit. I buried my head in my pillow and debated on
running. If Winnie hadn’t come in when she did, I
might have taken off. She’s right; we didn’t have
sex. I’ve never touched her, and I won’t. Because I
need her more than I want her.”

Cindy brushes a tear from her cheek and grabs a

tissue from the box. Dray walks over to me and
pulls me off the chair. Then, he wraps his arms
around my neck and squeezes me so hard, my
breath gets caught in my throat.

“Thank you,” he whispers so that only I can

hear. “You saved me from myself.”

Nineteen

Trey

“Sit down, Trey. We need to talk.” The boss is
pissed when he slides a stack of papers across the
desk.

The figures are low, and there have been way

too many missed drops this month. Every miss
means a face who knows the name and the people
working under it. Around here, that’s how people
go missing.

I should care that the business is on a decline,

and normally, I’d work twice as many hours until I
whipped the boys back into shape, all to make the
man across from me proud. But I’m not the same
young kid who came to him years ago, looking for
approval. I’m a grown-ass man who wants to live
life without answering to a higher power.

Knowing I can’t walk away, I take my place

across from him. I’ve sat here enough times to

know that he’ll tell me what he wants, and I’ll
make it happen. I’ve never disagreed.

“You’re taking out Jax tonight,” he says.
“Why Jax? He’s out on bail, but he’ll be serving

time soon.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “There’s too much of

my product floating around The Whip and the
trailer park and not enough money in my pocket.”

I’m not touching Jax. After what he did to

Winnie all these years, I want him rotting in a cell. I
know enough guys who are locked up. They’ll beat
his ass every day if I want them to, all for a shot at
coming back to the business once they’re free. A
sentence and prison time are parts of the job, and
you never stop working.

Today, I have to go against him. And it’s entirely

personal. “It’s not the right move, boss. We can do
better.”

“There’s no we, Trey,” he reminds me.
He’s right. This is his business. His money. And

all the more reason I need out.

“Fine, but not tonight. I want to make sure

nobody gets caught up in it. We can’t afford a
mistake or more missed drops.”

I make it about the business, but the real reason

I won’t have anyone touch Jax tonight is because I
want to make sure Winnie’s nowhere near The
Whip or the trailer park. And, if I tell her not to
come see me after school, she won’t understand.

She’ll think I’ve changed my mind and that I’m
rejecting her. She’ll be so hurt, she’ll come anyway,
walking right into the path of another bullet.

I can’t risk it.
I’ve already watched her fight for her life once.
“Fine. I trust you, Trey.”
Trust. I fucking hate that word.
“I’ll make it happen; don’t worry.”
“Good, because if you don’t, you’ll be the one

who owes me the money.”

“I don’t have that kind of cash.”
Nobody does, except him.
He tosses back the brandy in his glass and then

wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then,
you’ll be next to die. The choice is yours.”

Twenty

Winnie

School’s about as exciting as watching paint dry.
Dray’s been quiet all day. Since he insists on sitting
behind me in every class, he usually pokes me in
the back all day long, laughing every time I turn
around and yell at him. Eventually, we’re told to
settle down, or we’ll be separated.

I don’t think I’d actually get moved though.

None of the teachers have ever seen me with a
friend, let alone someone as socially powerful as
Dray. I’m the bottom of the food chain in this
school, and I think they’re just glad I’m starting to
fit in a little bit.

But, today, Dray hasn’t touched me once. Not

since the hug this morning in Cindy and Doug’s
office. Other than a couple of thank-yous as I
passed papers back down the row, you’d never
know Dray and I ever spoke.

It’s weird. Weird to the point that I actually miss

the annoying pokes and sarcastic banter.

I can’t figure out why he was willing to take the

blame for the sex we never had. It doesn’t make
sense. Why would he want a target from Cindy and
Doug on his back? Having a strike against you at
Sunshine Place is the equivalent of being on
probation. One wrong move in the future or another
false accusation from someone in the house, and
we’re out the door.

I can’t speak for Dray, but I can’t afford for that

to happen. I got lucky with staying so close to the
trailer park, in the same school, and with a life I can
stand. The chances of that happening a second time
are slim to none. That’s why I need to figure out
why Dray didn’t fight back against the accusations.
Why is he okay with Raven and Matty walking all
over us? They’re the ones in the wrong, not us.

By the time lunch rolls around, I’ve created a

million different scenarios in my head about what
could have happened to Dray to put him in this
funk. Everything from his dad leaving rehab to
giving up custody has crossed my mind. Both
would destroy Dray, and last night, he looked
devastated.

It bothers me so much, I skip meeting Jasper at

the locker room and go straight to the cafeteria.
He’ll understand that I had to talk to Dray even if
he doesn’t like it.

I get as close as the band lunch table before I

spot Dray joining the popular crowd at their lunch
table in the center of the cafeteria. He, along with
everyone else, is oblivious that I’m even in the
room.

When he sits down, his friends yell, “Alex!” like

he’s a god.

And, just like that, he’s back to being a legend,

going by a name he can’t stand.

The pain in his eyes gets overshadowed by the

fake smile on his face. None of them see the real
Alex or know the heart hidden beneath his
expensive clothes. Dray’s become a master at
hiding his emotions. You’d never know he’s living a
double life, pretending to be someone he’s not.

I’ve never done much pretending. What I feel is

etched into my skin. Years of pain and heartache
bleed from my cuts, and no matter how many scabs
form to level out the regret, another always follows.

I’ll never fit in with any of these people. I’ll

always be the girl from the wrong side of the tracks,
my story so daunting that they don’t even try to
process it. But that’s my fault, too. I’ve never
spoken about my life, and if I can make it through a
day without being noticed, I’m happy. Dray’s the
exact opposite of that. He couldn’t blend in if he
tried because a personality that big can’t be tamed,
controlled, or kept a secret.

I just wish he’d open up to someone in his group

who could actually help him. Someone the exact
opposite of me who’d make him see his worth and
convince him to own who he is. Someone who’d
tell him to be Dray instead of Alex.

Jasper never makes it to our usual spot at the

corner table. And, when I get tired of watching
Dray, I take a walk outside and end up finding
Jasper on a bench, sitting alone, staring at the
ground. He doesn’t lift his head until he sees the
tips of my shoes in front of him.

“What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking,” he says.
“About?”
“You.”
The butterflies I save for Trey get loose, and I

have to look away from Jasper when I say, “What
about me?”

“Sit down, Winnie.” His usual playful tone is

gone. The one that makes me laugh until my
stomach muscles ache.

Serious Jasper makes my hands shake and my

legs weak. Not in a good way either. Even sitting
next to him makes me anxious.

He clears his throat and angles his body, so he’s

facing me. I wish he wouldn’t look at me at all.

“I did something stupid last night, Winnie.”
“Like what?” The kiss.
I almost wish he wouldn’t say a word about it

because Melody’s expecting answers tonight. I told

her I’d ask around and find out if he had a
girlfriend. I already knew the answer to that. Jasper
has me, and until I tell him he’s never going to have
me, he’ll just keep trying. If I tell him, I might lose
him, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to get
through that.

“It’s a long story, but I was at the hospital. Well,

I didn’t go inside. I sat across the street, trying to
find this lady who helped me find you the day you
were shot. I’ve thought about her a lot and wanted
to thank her.”

“That’s nice of you.”
“She was great. Rode with me on the bus and

then walked with me all the way to the emergency
room. I was freaking out, like completely losing my
mind. I was so messed up on that ride, she thought I
was in trouble.”

Jasper’s never talked about the time between

the shooting and me waking up. I never asked
because I didn’t think it was important. I was shot.
Then, I went to surgery. It all seemed pretty cut and
dry to me. But Jasper’s complex, and just because
nobody’s ever cared about me before doesn’t mean
they don’t now.

“Did you find her?”
He shakes his head. “She never came, or maybe

I missed her bus.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“I’ll try another day.”

Another day means he might go back to the

coffee shop and see Melody. Melody will see him
and expect another kiss, maybe even more. I don’t
know how I feel about that. On one hand, it would
make Melody really happy, and she deserves that.
But I’m undeniably selfish when it comes to Jasper.
He’s the only real friend I’ve ever had, and if he
replaces me, I could lose that connection
completely. No more friendship. No more talks.
Nothing.

“Is that all that’s bothering you?”
Without warning, he says, “I kissed this girl at

the coffee shop while I was waiting.”

I wasn’t sure he’d tell me about Melody. Now

that he has, I’m not sure how to act or what to tell
him.

“Maybe that’s why you missed her bus.”
“Ouch,” he says.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Not intentionally

anyway.

“No, I deserved that. But I kissed her before I

left. After the last bus on the schedule dropped off
its passengers.”

“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeats. “That’s all I get?”
“What more do you want, Jasper?”
He runs his hands over his face, and the

frustration’s

palpable.

“Something,

Winnie.

Anything. Everything. I don’t know.”

“That’s a lot of things,” I whisper.
“It is,” he says as he stares over my shoulder

into thin air.

I’m glad I can’t hear his thoughts because I’m

pretty sure they’d either make me cry or entirely
knock me off the bench. “Do you like M—her?”
Almost giving her name away, I quickly correct
myself.

He doesn’t seem to catch the mistake. After all,

what are the chances I’d be roommates with the girl
he kissed in a coffee shop across town? It’d make
no sense to him, but to me, it’s normal. The
universe loves to play games with me.

“We barely talked, and then we were kissing. I

know nothing about her other than what she looks
like and that she can sing.”

He heard her voice, so it’s no wonder he’s

struggling. Melody singing one of her love songs
could cripple any guy within a mile radius. She has
the looks and the talent. A double threat.

I can’t agree that she’s magical, so I just say,

“Okay.”

Jasper immediately rolls his eyes. “I hate when

you say that.”

“Why?”
“Because it feels like you don’t care.”
Sliding closer to Jasper, I reach for his hand.

Mine’s shaking so bad, he squeezes me harder than
normal to steady it.

“I care,” I tell him. “I care about everything you

do and everything you say. You’re my only friend
in this school.”

“That’s not why you should care.”
“Let me finish. I care because you sat with me

in the hospital, never leaving my side unless one of
the nurses made you. You barely slept for days, and
I think you were forced into a shower at one point.
But you never complained about your stiff neck
from sleeping in a chair or how much time you’d
missed out on in your own life. You’ve kept your
bedroom window open every night since you met
me, all so I can climb a ladder and get into bed with
you when I’m scared. So, that’s why I care, Jasper.
I care because you’re you, and you accept me for
me.”

“But it’s still not enough, right? You care, but

you’ll never want me like you want him.”

“It’s not fair to compare the two of you. If Trey

wasn’t in the picture, I’m not sure I’d even still be
alive.”

“Don’t say that, Winnie.”
“It’s the truth. There’s no telling where I’d be or

the shape I’d be in. Maybe, without him, I’d be
with you. It’s possible. Or maybe I’d never have
met you at all. So, the what-if game is too hard to
play.”

“Can you try?”
The only way Jasper will understand is if he

were inside my head. That’s a scary place to be,
and all I can do is try to make him understand. I
owe him that much.

“I can try.”
He lets go of my hand when I need him to hold

me tighter. But I get it. Nobody wants to hear why
they’re not good enough while holding on to the
person they can’t have.

“It’s not that I don’t care enough about you,

Jasper. It’s just that someone else has been in my
life longer. Someone I can’t walk away from
because they’re my family, my home, my heart, my
entire world. In your arms, I’m protected and safe,
and I love that. It’s what I need. But Trey’s arms
feel more like home than any house ever has. I
don’t expect you to understand that, but until I
figure it out, I can’t be with anyone else. As long as
he’s in my heart, I’ll never be what you need me to
be.”

Jasper absorbs my words, and with every

syllable processed, his knee bounces a little faster.
“I kissed her because I was thinking about you and
Trey. I know what you were doing in his trailer
yesterday, and there was nothing I could do to stop
it. You were in there with a man you loved, and he
doesn’t deserve any of it. He’s not good enough for
you.”

The lump in my throat builds until I can barely

swallow. While Trey was touching me, Jasper was

watching the trailer, waiting for me to come out.
Even though there were walls between us, I feel
like he was in the room with us.

“How did you know?”
“I figured it out,” he says. “It wasn’t hard.”
There are a million things I could say about

privacy and boundaries, but they wouldn’t help.
Pissing Jasper off more than he already is could be
dangerous. I don’t think he’d ever do anything to
intentionally hurt me or get me in trouble, but after
what happened with Raven, I can’t take any
chances.

I leave it with a simple, “Trey’s a good person,

Jasper.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he says under his

breath. “The guy basically lives in hiding. Is that
the kind of life you want?”

Explaining myself more than I already have

won’t help the situation. No amount of persuasion
will ever make Jasper accept Trey. He’ll never get
what it’s like to love someone the way Trey and I
love each other. I don’t need any man to save me. I
need to be found and appreciated, and all Jasper
sees is a girl who can’t make it on her own. Trey
already knows I can fly.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him as I stand up on shaky

legs. And then I take one last look at Jasper.
Because, when I walk away, things will never be
what they were. I can already tell.

“You can still pick me, Winnie. When he lets

you down, I’ll still be there to pick you back up.”

I wish it were that simple. Jasper’s so much

more than I deserve, and I hate that I have to hurt
him like this. But I do. My heart isn’t going to
budge.

“I can’t,” I tell him. “And that’s not going to

happen.”

Trey and I have plans. We have an entire future

to build as soon as I turn eighteen. What Jasper
needs is a girl like Melody who’ll love him the way
he deserves to be loved. A girl who isn’t so messed
up that she can’t leave the house without looking
over her shoulder or feeling the burn of a bullet.

Twenty-One

Winnie

The entire walk to the trailer park, I can’t get
Jasper’s face out of my head. His pleading eyes and
gentle voice will haunt me for a long time. Nothing
about saying no to him was easy. Sure, I have this
plan in my head about how my life will go, but not
once did I think it would be easy. Life with Trey’s
going to be nearly impossible as long as he’s
working with the boss. That man doesn’t want him
to have a life outside of the business, and I have a
feeling it’ll get worse before it gets better.

None of it matters though. Dollars in the bank

are meaningless if you can’t live a life to enjoy it,
and that’s what Trey wants. He wants a life with
me.

I thought I’d have to wait a few hours to see him

since I didn’t bother going back to class after the
talk with Jasper. I couldn’t. Seeing Dray would

have only made me feel worse because I got him in
trouble with Cindy and Doug. I needed a break
from school and all the drama following me around.

What I don’t expect is Trey’s bike to be parked

in the driveway when I get to the trailer. He’s here,
waiting for me. But, when I turn the knob and push
the front door open, I’m not prepared for who’s
sitting on the couch.

A woman wearing a leather skirt and a lacy bra

top is smoking a cigarette like she just had the best
sex of her life. “Who are you?” she asks like I’m
not supposed to be there.

I guess I’m not. I don’t live there, and she’s

already judging me for my age. I can feel it as her
eyes slide up and down my body. Too young to be
competition. Pretty enough to be questioned.

Frozen in place, I blink a couple of times, trying

my best to remember my own name. Instead of
telling her the truth, I slink back into the invisible
girl from school and keep my head down.
“Nobody.”

“Are you his kid or something?”
“No.”
Her nervous laugh bubbles through the inhale

she takes of the cigarette, relief mixed with anxiety.
“Well, he’ll be right back. Don’t look so scared.”

I’m not scared of Trey. He’s never made me

afraid, and I can feel his presence before I see him.

“What are you doing here?” he says a little

harsher than needed.

I can’t figure out if it’s an act or if he’s really

upset with me. The woman on the couch stands up
and rubs his arm the way the girls do at The Whip
when they’re hoping for extra tips. She’s probably
one of those girls, and Trey doesn’t pull away fast
enough to make me believe otherwise.

He’s pretending, Winnie. He can’t give away

that he wants you and not her.

“Here, this is all I can do,” he says as he slips a

tiny package into her hand.

Pills.
I’ve seen deals go down before, and despite the

touches, this one’s no different than all the others—
a woman who can’t pay but shows up wearing next
to nothing, hoping her body’s enough to cover the
tab. What she doesn’t realize is that Trey would
rather sell for less than take what she’s offering.
But why is he dealing at all, especially out of the
trailer? He has people who do that for him.

“Thanks, baby,” she practically purrs. “I’ll make

sure I’m good for it next time.”

“You were good for it this time,” he tells her

with a straight face, giving nothing away.

I can’t figure out if that means she paid in full or

if she sucked him off.

My thigh starts to burn, and I ball my fists up

until my knuckles ache. “I’ll be in the bathroom.”

Trey steps in front of me and catches my arm

with his hand. He nods toward the door, and the girl
with the pills shows herself out.

Once she’s gone, he closes the door and locks it.

“What’s the attitude about, Winn?”

“What attitude? I said I was going to the

bathroom.”

“Look,” he says, “it’s not what you think.

You’re getting yourself twisted for nothing.”

Maybe I am, but he’s done nothing to convince

me otherwise. I can’t help the jealousy.

“You never deal. Why today? To her?”
When he links his fingers with mine, his

defensive stance becomes comforting. “We didn’t
have sex, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t
do that to you.”

“But you’re not having sex with me either.”
I’ll never be like that girl. If she appeals to him,

then we’ll never work.

“You think I’ll automatically cheat on you

because you’re not old enough to sleep with me.”
It’s not a question, rather a statement.

And he’s right. He reads me like a book.
“Stop,” I tell him before he can reveal any of

the other thoughts swirling around in my head.

He cups my jaw and pushes my chin up, so he

can look into my eyes. His are extra stormy. “I
won’t stop, Winn. If you’re old enough to assume
the worst of me, you’re old enough to have this
conversation.”

I don’t want to have this conversation. It would

hurt too much, so I take away the possibility of his
truth and replace it with my own. “I believe you,
Trey.”

“Are you sure about that?” he questions with his

annoying smirk that hits me right in the gut. It
makes his dimple pop out, and then it’s impossible
to stay mad or concentrate on anything other than
kissing him.

“I’m choosing to believe you. I’ll leave it at

that.”

“But that doesn’t mean you do,” he adds.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
He nods, and his smile fades a little. “Now, tell

me what you’re doing here. Why’d you leave
school early?”

“Bad day.”
“You can’t skip anymore, Winn. Social workers

aren’t too keen on that shit.”

“Please don’t parent me. Just kiss me.”
His eyes soften even more, and when he licks

his lips, my pulse whooshes in my ears like I’m
underwater.

“You have to be more careful. That could have

been the boss on the couch.”

I don’t imagine the boss makes house calls to

random trailers, but I don’t question it. If he says it
could happen, then it could.

“I feel the same way about you. Why are you

dealing?”

He brushes the hair away from my face, and his

knuckles graze my skin. I get instant goose bumps
all over my body.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
When I’m told not to worry, that’s usually when

I worry the most. Trey’s smart though. He wouldn’t
do anything that would jeopardize his life or us.

“Okay.”
He leans forward and presses his lips against my

forehead, a sign that we’re okay. He’s not really
mad that I skipped school, and he’ll get over the
fact that I walked in on a deal, putting myself in
danger.

“She thought I was your daughter.”
“We’re done talking about her,” he says way too

calmly.

He might be done, but her rosy cheeks, pretty

auburn hair, and long legs are ingrained in my brain.
Maybe she doesn’t have much common sense, but
she’s so much more than I’ll ever be in the looks
department.

“She’s really pretty. I get the appeal.”
Trey spins me around so fast, I get dizzy. He has

my back pressed against his front and then pushes
the hair away from my neck. Once the skin’s
exposed, he sucks and kisses his way from my
collarbone all the way up to my ear. “I don’t ever
want to see that look on your face again, Winn. You

hear me?”

“What look?”
The hand gripping my hip fades down my thigh

and then between my legs. He presses his palm on
my clit, and my back arches. His groan vibrates
through me.

“The one where you think I’m cheating on

you.”

“Cheating?” I question.
You can only cheat on someone you’re actually

with. Trey isn’t mine. At least, not when it comes to
titles. He’s always been a part of me.

“Does that mean…”
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what it means.”
“But I thought we had to wait.”
Three more weeks. Twenty-one days stand

between now and a future with Trey.

He turns me around and runs his fingers through

my hair. “This is still our secret for now, but you’re
mine, Winn. You’ve always been mine.”

With our lips only inches apart, a loud crash and

shattering glass rock the trailer. Trey pulls me
against his chest and then to the floor beside the
bed. His fingers dig into my arms, and if looks
could kill, whoever just broke the window would
already be dead.

“Get in the closet, and don’t come out until I tell

you.”

“Don’t go out there! Wait until they leave.”

“I can’t wait. There’s a stash in the bathroom.”
Trey digs around in the bedside drawer, and by

the time I get to my knees, there’s a gun in his
hand. Just the sight of it takes my breath away. It’s
identical to the one Tess pointed at me, the same
black darkness that haunts my dreams.

“Closet. Now,” he barks.
And then he’s gone.
I crawl on my hands and knees across the room

and slide the closet door open as quietly as I can.
Other than a pair of riding boots and a pair of jeans,
there’s nothing to hide behind. All I have to protect
myself is a shoe.

Suddenly, I’m back in the parking lot, staring at

the puddle of dried blood on the ground. The closet
walls close in on me, and I think I hear the bedroom
window breaking. I can see little shards of glass
spray across the carpet, and I know it’s really
happening again. Pressing my body into the corner,
I wish I had superpowers to make myself invisible.

There’s no struggle or argument. Not a single

raised voice or sign that anyone’s in the trailer. The
silence is deafening, and I’m positive something
happened to Trey.

I’m tucked into the tightest ball with my arms

over my head when the closet door slides open, and
the sunshine chases away the darkness. It bleeds
into my eyes until I’m forced to open them.

I expect it to be Jax or one of his thugs, but

Trey’s standing there with remorse written all over
his face.

“Is it over?” I ask him. “Are you okay?”
He bends down, picks me up, and kisses the top

of my head. “Everything’s fine. Let’s get you out of
the closet.”

His boots crunch the glass into smaller bits, and

he checks the bed before setting me on it.

“Do you have a vacuum? I can clean this up.”
“You’re shaking. You’re not cleaning anything.

I’ll get it.”

“Who was it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I tell him. “You have broken

windows. Whoever did this could come back, and
you can’t call the cops. They probably know that.”

Trey pauses, like he wants to tell me the truth,

but changes his mind. I tell myself that, someday,
he won’t keep so much of his life a secret.
Someday, he’ll see me as his equal and not
someone who needs constant protection.

“He won’t be back.”
“He? How can you be sure it wasn’t that girl?”
That makes him laugh. “I promise you, it wasn’t

her.”

“Don’t laugh at me. You have so many people

out to get you. Every day, you’re surrounded by
bad guys. All it would take is one wrong move,
Trey. And then…” I trail off, unable to finish the

sentence.

I’m so worried about him, but I can tell Trey’s

not thinking about himself right now. He’s
imagining me on the ground with the gunshot
wound. I know because he’s staring at my body in
the exact spot the bullet hit.

The warmth I felt as he told me he loved me is

replaced by ice.

A different Trey stares back at me. “This is why

I tried to push you away. I don’t want this life for
you.”

“Don’t you get it? This isn’t your choice or

mine. This just happened. We were meant to
happen. And I’ll always choose you, no matter who
breaks your windows or tries to get you naked by
buying some pills.”

“That’s not what she was doing, Winn.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But she wasn’t here to ask

about the weather.”

Five minutes ago, we were a new couple excited

about where things were headed. Trey let me in.
Now, we’re back to second-guessing everything.
That’s how it is with him. One step forward. Two
steps back. There’s always an obstacle, always
something that gets wedged between us, making life
impossible.

“I need you to go home, Winn.”
He doesn’t mean it. I know he doesn’t. We

didn’t even get to spend any time together.

“Because I said she was here for you? You’ll

just send me away if I tell you how I feel?”

“No. But I don’t want to fight, and I have a

mess to clean up. The last thing I want is you
getting hurt.”

“I already am,” I grumble.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Nothing. I have to go.”
Trey runs his hands over his face, and I wait for

him to get up, but he doesn’t budge.

“This isn’t how I want it, Winn. I want to take

you to the city and keep you there until we can get
away. But we have to be patient. If you leave now,
you’ll get to Sunshine Place by the time the bus
drops off. Your foster parents won’t know the
difference.”

“They’re not my parents. They just own the

home. Why can’t you drive me like you did
yesterday?” I’d get there too soon, but at least I’d
have a few extra minutes with my arms wrapped
around Trey.

“I can’t this time,” he says. “I have a few things

to take care of.”

Trey’s rejection stings even if he is trying to do

the right thing. I get it; he wants to keep me safe.
He’s always felt the less I knew about his job, the
better. That way, if I’m ever questioned, I won’t
feel compelled to lie for him.

But I’m not a kid anymore.

If I’m old enough to kiss Trey, then I’m old

enough to hear the truth.

I can handle his world.
He follows me to the front door, and I dodge

more glass along the way. The place is trashed.

“I’m sorry this happened.”
“Don’t apologize,” he tells me.
My step forward gets matched. He doesn’t deny

me when I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips
against his, finally getting the kiss I’ve been waiting
all day for.

“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.
I’ve never said those words before. But I don’t

regret letting them slip out.

He squeezes my waist and tucks a finger in my

pocket. “This isn’t how it should be, Winn. You
hate this trailer park, and I keep bringing you here.
We should be someplace better.”

I don’t care about why we have to come here or

why we hide. It’s not a factor in my feelings for
Trey. We’ll do what we have to until it’s safe.
Those are the rules.

“Just say it,” I tell him. “If you feel it, say it. I

don’t care where we are.”

Trey grabs my face with both hands and studies

me. I’m not his project, not some fragile girl who
needs the world served to her on a silver platter. I
know better than anyone that a perfect world
doesn’t exist. I’m happy with rough edges and

jagged paths.

Right here, right now, Trey and I are as real as

we’re ever going to get. I’ve battled demons. I’ve
dangled from the side of a cliff and almost jumped.
But those demons disappear when I’m with Trey.
He’s the goodness of the future, wrapped up in my
forever.

“I love you, Winnie Dawes.”
“Winn,” I whisper. “You call me Winn.”
He’s the only one who does. And, every time

my name comes out of his mouth, I hang on to that
one syllable harder than I’ve ever held on to
anything else.

Until now.
Now, I can add three little words I’ve waited a

lifetime to hear.

I love you.
“Right,” he says with his signature smile. “I love

you, Winn.”

“Say it again.”
I pinch my arm when he says it one more time.

This is real. I’m not dreaming. Trey loves me.
Nobody’s ever loved me like Trey does. And
nobody ever will.

Twenty-Two

Winnie

I bound down the stairs, feeling like I didn’t sleep
at all. I must have repeated Trey’s words a hundred
times in my head. Each time I love you came out, it
felt better than the time before. I’ve never felt
closer to Trey, and even though we can’t show each
other exactly how we feel yet, I know that, with
time, we’ll get there. We’ll take the next step and
every step after that—together.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he always tells

me.

But how can I not? We’re so close. In a couple

of weeks, I’ll have a birthday—the birthday.

After I turn eighteen, I haven’t decided if I’ll

stay at Sunshine Place until I graduate or if I’ll
move in with Trey. Chances are, he won’t want me
to move until I have a diploma, and we’re free to
go wherever we want. Besides, I’m smart enough to

realize that, after the chaos at the trailer last night,
staying with Doug and Cindy is safer than the
trailer park.

“Winnie, aren’t you having breakfast?” Cindy

yells from the living room when she catches me
running toward the foyer.

“Not hungry. See you later,” I yell over my

shoulder.

I couldn’t eat if I tried. With all the nervous

energy in my system, a long walk is the only thing
that’ll calm me down before school. Because, once
I get there, I’ll be forced to sit still for hours,
pretending like I care about what happens between
the hours of eight and three. I should care, but my
real life exists once the final bell rings, and I’m free
again. Well, as free as Sunshine Place lets me be.

But, when I walk through the lobby doors, like I

do every day of the week, I’m reminded of how
much I hate school. A hundred pairs of eyes
examine me like a specimen under a microscope in
the chem lab.

Their looks aren’t full of pity or curiosity, like

after I got shot. This time, they’re assigning me a
new title, a sentence to add to the list of infractions
I keep getting judged for. I’m not sure how I earned
my new status, but I thought the worst was over.

The more Dray spoke to me in class, the easier it

was to blend in. Most days, I didn’t even have to
try to keep my head down. Nobody cared what I

did anymore, and I thought that, with a little more
time, I could fit in, maybe even consider myself to
be off the daily drama radar.

Today is proof of how wrong I was to let my

guard down. The comfort I got used to disappears,
and I’m back to being a freak. Whispers turn into
pointing, and then laughter erupts when my bottom
lip quivers. Crying only makes their hate worse, so
I bite my lip and press down with my teeth. If I
make it hurt enough, I’ll think about cutting instead
of breaking down into tears.

Each step I take, not one person looks away.

Nobody takes a step forward to disagree with the
crowd. They just stand as a unit and gawk at me. It
gets so bad, I bypass my locker and walk into first
period without so much as a piece of notebook
paper. All I have in my book bag are two books for
my classes after lunch and a pack of gum.

Someone left a condom, still in the wrapper, on

my chair, and I kick it onto the floor before I sit
down. Dray files down the row after me and steps
over it, barely blinking. Any other day, that would
have gotten a rousing reaction out of him, but
today, he’s silent. He doesn’t make eye contact,
and when I turn around to talk to him, he still won’t
look at me.

“Are you mad I didn’t ride the bus?” I ask him.
“No,” he says.
He’s suddenly too focused on digging around in

his bag, and he’s probably hoping I take the hint
and leave him alone. I’d expect that coldness from
any other person in the room but not Dray. He’s
good to me. We live under the same roof and got
called into the office for sex we didn’t have, and
this is the best he can do when I really need him.

“What’s going on, Dray?”
“I don’t know.”
The lie hurts more than a punch to the face ever

could. I wish he had hit me. At least then, I’d have
a place to direct the pain. Because, right now, my
heart’s almost filled to the brim with agony.

Dray knows everything that goes on in this

school, no matter what grade or wing of the
building the drama unfolds. He’s well aware that
my partially rebuilt reputation was shattered this
morning. And, apparently, he doesn’t care.

chest

tightens

the

morning

announcements filter through the loudspeaker. The
chatter around me dies down, but the stares
continue to tear my soul wide open. It’s like
everyone can see inside me, and all my deepest,
darkest secrets are pouring out of my body. My
thigh wants to bleed from the exposure.

What did I do?
A note falls out of thin air and onto my desk.

I’m too afraid to turn around to see who threw it,
but I pick it up, and with shaky hands, I unfold the
paper.

Slut is written in purple ink.
Dray must read it over my shoulder because I

hear him exhale, and then my desk shakes. His
knee is bouncing like it always does when he’s too
full of nervous energy. When I found him on his
bed the night he was upset, his foot was doing the
same thing as it dangled off the end of the bed.
Dray’s wound up.

Just as I crumple up the paper, another note

lands on the desk. I shouldn’t read it, but I can’t
help myself. If they’re going to talk, I need the full
story. I need their words to burn so that, when I
lock myself in the bathroom later, I’ll remember
them with each cut, chasing them from my mind
with each drop of blood.

Whore.
Easy.
Tramp.
Paper after paper, I read the words they believe

that I am.

Finally, the shaking behind me stops, and Dray’s

still.

“Enough!” he yells. “No more.”
The teacher looks up from his desk, but Dray’s

as much of a king in class as he is around campus.
Mr. Jones doesn’t say a word about his outburst
because all of our teachers love him, too.

My red face goes unnoticed by Mr. Jones, and

that only makes the heat spread across my cheeks

faster. Nobody cares about Winnie Dawes. Not
even Dray, who decided to stick up for me about an
hour too late.

I don’t wait for another insult to take flight and

land on my desk. My body goes through its own
battle between staying and going, and then, like
always, running wins. It’s the only defense
mechanism that ever survives besides the cutting.
Since I can’t do that here, I grab my bag, toss it
over my shoulder, and disappear like they want me
to.

Muffled snickers and a couple of whistles follow

me into the hallway. Eventually, the silence feeds
some air back into my lungs, and I take the deepest
breath I can, just in case another one doesn’t
follow.

“Winnie, wait!”
Any other day, Dray’s voice would comfort me.

He’d stop me from running, and he’d talk me into
going back to class with just a smile or a joke. But
he’s not my friend anymore. Like all the other
hopes and dreams in my life, I have to let him go.

Out of a graduating class of approximately three

hundred students, two people were on my side. The
odds of having a good day really weren’t in my
favor, yet I was having them. For once in my life, I
didn’t completely dread waking up for school.

As a senior, I ate my first meal in the cafeteria

instead of locked inside a graffiti-filled restroom

stall or on a bench in a locker room, surrounded by
smelly gym uniforms. Dray gave that to me. The
good grace of one popular kid was all it took to end
the loneliness of a school day.

But Dray’s gone. He’s back to being Alex, and

he’s teamed up with the two hundred ninety-eight
other students who either treat me like shit or don’t
care that their stares and whispers hurt.

“Winnie, stop!” he yells again.
Outside of the classroom, I don’t have to listen

to anybody. His word isn’t golden anymore, but he
still catches me before I make it outside.

Tugging on my arm, he forces me to a stop.

“You can’t leave school, Winnie.”

“Watch me,” I tell him. “Don’t act like you

care, Dray. I’m not going back in there, and nothing
you say will change my mind.”

“You have to go back. Just stay in the building.

Don’t be stupid and walk out the door. You never
cared what anyone said about you before.”

That’s how good of an actress I must be. So

good, I never realized I was even acting. If Dray
was paying attention, he’d have seen just how
much I cared, how every word spoken against me
ate me alive. My self-worth was stripped away until
I was bare. Day after day, I walked around these
halls, naked. No confidence. Zero dignity. And a
whole lot of shame.

“You think this is me being stupid? The pieces

of paper spelled it out. Mr. Jones has enough paper
in that classroom to keep the notes flowing for
hours, probably days. Was I supposed to sit there
and take it? Keep reading until they ran out of
colorful words to label me with?”

“I told them to stop, Winnie.”
“Oh, so you finally spoke up, and all is right

with the world again. I’m just supposed to forget
about how they treated me because you told them
to knock it off?”

“No.”
“Exactly. I could get into trouble for this. I’m

underage. All they have to do is connect a few dots,
and my world blows up.”

His usual tan skin becomes eerily pale. I’m the

one being crucified, yet he’s the one who looks like
he’s about to pass out. Then, it all makes sense.

“It was you. I can’t believe you told them.”
“Winnie, I swear on my life, I didn’t say a word.

I’d never get you in trouble. We’re both under a
microscope in the foster system.”

I don’t believe him. Not even for a second. It’s

too much of a coincidence. I asked Dray to cover
for me and filled him in on a little bit about my life,
and then he showed me his true colors by turning
the whole school against me.

“I guess you had the right idea, Dray. Find

someone with bigger problems, so it’s easier to
keep your own life a secret. Because, if they’re

occupied with me, they’ll leave you alone.”

“You have it all wrong,” he says. His tone is

sincere, yet it doesn’t mean a thing.

There might have been a time when Dray was

on my side, but Alex, he’s always been like
everyone else. I’ve finally reached the point I can
see it for myself, and if I don’t get away from this
school and all these fake people, I’ll completely
crack. This time, I won’t have it in me to put the
pieces back together. I’m done trying.

“Why didn’t you try to stop them then?”
“I’ll go back in there right now and stop Mr.

Jones in the middle of his boring-ass lecture. I’ll tell
them all to apologize.”

“That would only make it worse.”
Too little, too late.
“What happened to Jasper?” Dray asks as he

looks over my shoulder.

I turn around and see Jasper’s black eye and his

arm that’s in a sling. My heart sinks to the floor as
he walks toward me.

“What happened, Jasper?”
He glances at Dray, and the second they make

eye contact, Jasper shrinks a couple of inches. His
posture changes, and his shoulders slump even
further. I don’t know why, but Dray gives him a
look so evil, Jasper keeps moving, entirely ignoring
me.

I try to follow him, but Dray grabs my arm and

says, “Stay away from him, Winnie.”

“He’s my best friend. And he’s hurt.”
Dray pulls me into the boys’ restroom. “There’s

something I need to tell you,” he says.

“Say it fast because I need to find Jasper.”
Once he knows I’m not going to run, Dray lets

go of me, and his eyes become so intense, I take a
step backward. Putting an extra couple of inches in
between us might lessen the impact his words are
about to have. Or so I hope because nothing could
ever prepare me for what comes out of his mouth
next.

“I wasn’t sure until just now, but I think Jasper’s

responsible for the rumor about you. Someone sent
out a mass text last night, and it spread like wildfire
around the senior class. Some of the juniors even
got it. I wanted to tell you last night when I got it,
but I didn’t know how. You were in such a good
mood at dinner. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Correction, two hundred ninety-nine students

hate my guts.

With only one person left on my side, I look at

him and say, “Show me the text.”

Dray hesitates. He closes his eyes, and then he

digs into his front pocket and pulls out his cell
phone. A quick swipe across the screen and then a
passcode later, and Jasper’s text seeps into my
brain.

Winnie Dawes is a dirty slut. She’s
such a whore that she’s too filthy for
the trailer park.

My best friend—the guy who picked me up

each time I fell and who showed me that rock
bottom was nothing more than a pit stop, not a final
destination—has betrayed me. One text does more
damage than I could ever do with a blade.

Bile rises up the back of my throat, and no

matter how many times I swallow, the heat won’t
stay down. I cover my mouth with my hand and run
outside onto the lawn, heaving into the perfectly
manicured bushes that spell out the school’s mascot
—a wolverine. I’m hunted by the wolves every day
of my life.

The saying is true; the strength of the wolf is the

pack. Jasper’s the wolf, and his pack stands at the
classroom windows, watching as I hunch over and
empty my stomach. Thank God I skipped breakfast,
or this would be even more humiliating.

One of the office staff must have alerted the

counselors because there’s a hand on my back,
rubbing little circles that are supposed to be
comforting. If this woman knew me at all, she’d
know I didn’t like to be touched. I tell her that as
soon as I stand up, and she seems appalled by my
tone.

“Let’s go inside and talk,” she says.

I go back inside to grab my bag, and then I turn

around and walk right back out the doors, ignoring
her pleas to come back inside. If I don’t leave right
now, I’ll end up in the restroom with the sharpest
thing I can find in my hand.

Counselors should understand space and

boundaries and teenagers in general. But this one
doesn’t have any common sense. She just runs after
me, spouting off a million ways we can make this
better. There isn’t a single way to make this not
hurt. Nothing will take away the pain Jasper
inflicted. Absolutely nothing. Razors don’t fix
broken hearts. I’ve tried.

“Winnie, the person who sent the text will be

found, and appropriate actions will be taken. It was
sent outside of school grounds and hours, so there’s
only so much we can do, but we’re aware of the
situation, and I promise we’ll get to the bottom of
the accusations.”

“Don’t bother,” I tell her. “I’m not a situation,

and Jasper’s not wrong. I’m all the things he said I
am.”

All the men who snuck into my room told me I

was a slut. They talked to me like I couldn’t hear
them and made me their prize. One touch was so
rewarding, they needed more—until I was theirs,
and they were mine.

The future can’t wash away the past, no matter

how hard you try to scrub away the memories. I am

who I am. I’m Winnie Dawes, trailer trash.

She says my name over and over, begging me to

go to her office so that we can talk. I’m done
talking, and I walk out of school without a note or a
parent to pick me up.

I’m sure she’ll call Cindy and Doug and tell

them what’s going on, but that does nothing to
change my decision. They won’t want me anymore.
Cindy said one more strike, and I was gone.
Everyone gives up on me, even when it’s not my
fault. Bad Karma follows me around like a cloud on
a rainy day, pouring buckets of shame over my
head. They took me in when I stopped believing a
better life existed, and since I’ve lived with them,
I’ve done little to show them that I’m capable of
getting my shit together. They met me when I was
shot, lying in a hospital bed, wondering if it would
have been better if I hadn’t woken up.

I should have died in the parking lot.
The universe got it wrong when it sent me back,

and now, it’s my time to set things straight.

A quick text to Trey, and my suspicious are

confirmed. Jasper’s responsible for breaking the
trailer windows. And Trey’s the one who gave him
the black eye and the broken arm.

Jasper must have followed me to Trey’s again

and got jealous that we were inside together. Only
this time, he didn’t kiss a girl in a coffee shop to
feel better about himself. He retaliated by smashing

windows and destroying Trey’s property. He had to
know Trey would catch him, but in his twisted
thoughts, he probably thought that hurting Trey
would hurt me just as bad. And he’s right. Because,
if anything were to happen to Trey, I’d end it all
today and go along with him to heaven. He’s the
only reason I wake up in the mornings, the only
reason I have left to get out of bed.

Jasper made his own bed though. If Trey finds

out about the text he sent around school, his
injuries won’t matter anymore. He won’t know
what pain is anymore because Trey will kill him.

All the more reason I’m finished with school

and this town. Diploma or not, today is my last day
of high school. I’m going back to Sunshine Place,
packing my things, and running away with Trey.

I can’t do this anymore.

Twenty-Three

Winnie

Cindy’s sitting on the chair inside the foyer with her
elbows on her knees. As soon as she sees me, she
sighs and stands up. “The school called. I had no
idea where to look for you. Thank you for coming
home.”

“I’m not staying,” I tell her.
This isn’t home. It might have been an illusion

for a little while, but these walls and the pretty
paintings hanging on them are just a cover-up. You
can dress up Sunshine Place however you want, but
every foundation is made of the same cement and
bricks. It doesn’t matter how wide or how tall you
build upon those bricks; the wind will always
destroy it the same way.

Cindy takes the backpack out of my hand and

sets it on the floor. Normally, she’s lecturing Raven
or Matty to put their shit away and keep it off the

floor. Mine can go wherever it wants today because
she knows I’m about to run.

“Sit, Winnie. Let’s talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Then, we’ll walk. Go do what you need to do,

and we’ll have a conversation while you do it.”

At first, I think she’s kidding, but when I move,

she follows. Her footsteps trail mine the whole way
up the stairs and then into my bedroom. She
glances around at Melody’s things and then mine.
We keep it clean, mostly because it’s house rules,
but I’m sure she comes in here when we’re at
school, searching for trouble. Why would she have
any reason to trust the kids living in her home? And
that’s all the more reason this will never be mine.

I feel like I’m being chased by the counselor

again, and when I open the closet door, I get a flash
of Trey’s trailer and the sound of the windows
shattering. How could Jasper have done that? If he
were messing with anyone other than Trey, he’d be
in jail right now for destruction of property and
vandalism. Time in juvie is worth proving a point to
me—that he wants me and needs me, that he’s
better for me than Trey.

Cindy’s breath hitches when she sees my duffel

bag. It’s the one I came to Sunshine Place with, and
even with my things inside, there was still plenty of
empty space. That’s how little I had left.

“Are you staying at a friend’s house tonight?”

she asks. “We have a form to fill out, and I’ll need
her parents to sign a consent form.”

“I’m moving out, Cindy.”
She stands up and starts messing with her

necklace, a nervous habit you don’t see too often
from her. She’s always put together and in control.
“You can’t leave. Where will you stay? What about
school?”

“I’m done with school.”
“I heard about the text. You’re upset. It’s

understandable that you want to quit, but you need
that diploma, Winnie. Without it, you’ll never get a
job. You’ll starve.”

I’ve starved before and survived. I’ll do it again.

Eating tuna fish every day really wasn’t so bad. At
least I didn’t need to worry about a kitchen or
washing dishes like I do here. Dray isn’t coming in
and out of my life with his many mood swings and
popularity contests. Jasper doesn’t prove himself
just to screw me over. And Raven isn’t trying to
tank my standings in the house by accusing me of
having sex with my housemate.

Where I come from, everyone already assumes

the worst about me. There are no surprises. What
you see is what you get, and I think I might miss
that most. I can just be Winnie Dawes, the girl with
zero expectations and the will to fight. I want her
back.

“I won’t be alone, Cindy. I have a place to go.”

“Will you be with him?” she asks.
The way she says him, I’m positive she’s talking

about Trey. How she knows about him, I have no
idea. My secrets have stayed secrets unless she’s
been following me like Jasper or she got to Dray for
information. Dray swore on his life he didn’t tell,
and I think I believe him.

“It doesn’t matter. I know where I come from,

and that’s where I belong.”

“I’ll have to call the state if you leave.”
“I know.”
“What can I do to convince you to stay?”
“I’m grateful you took me in. I am. But this isn’t

where I belong.”

I thought staying in the same school was a

blessing. Now, I almost wish I had been placed in a
new one. Somewhere I could have reinvented
myself and become a girl people were proud to be
seen with. Not one who earned paper-airplane
notes to be shot on her desk to remind her of who
she really was—Tess.

Cindy’s on the phone the entire time I pack, and

I move faster, just in case the cops show up.

Winnie: Going to the trailer now.
Meet me?

Trey: Can’t stay long.

Winnie: I just need to see you.

Trey: On my way.

I breathe a sigh of relief and then zip up my bag.

Melody’s been a good roommate, but she’s not
going to miss me. Without me, she doesn’t have to
hide under the covers with a flashlight to write late
at night or sleep with earbuds in to listen to her
music.

Eventually, my replacement will show up, and

she’ll make a new friend. And, if she’s lucky, Jasper
will find her at the coffee shop and kiss her again.
Just because I hate him doesn’t mean he’s not
worth having.

I’m the one who’s hard to love, not him.

Twenty-Four

Trey

Winnie not being at school again can only mean
one thing; she’s quitting. I know because that’s how
it went for me when I wanted to drop out.

My teachers told me that, if I applied myself, I’d

go places. All that wasted potential really pissed
them off. But they didn’t know what it was like to
have parents who were too busy cheating on one
another and partying to pay attention to their kid.
They didn’t show up at my high school graduation,
so they sure as hell weren’t saving their pennies for
my college education.

From a young age, I knew I was on my own, and

maybe that’s why I’m so hell-bent on making sure
Winnie doesn’t fall into the same trap I did—
working late hours, doing shady business with
people she has no business being around. I want to
give her the world—not because she was let down

by her own parents, but because she deserves it.
She deserves everything.

She’s sitting on the couch, waiting for me, when

I get to the trailer. I had the windows replaced late
last night. A guy owed me some money and a favor,
so he did it without a dime from my pocket.

“Thanks for coming,” she says. “I needed to see

you.”

I toss my helmet on the table, and she stands up

and bats those long, dark lashes at me. Her eyes are
my weakness. They’re the kind of eyes that make
you do stupid shit.

“I see that. What’s up?”
“Well, there’s something I need to tell you.” She

fidgets and pulls at the hem of her shirt.

I check to see if it’s something new I’m

supposed to notice, but I don’t think so. “You look
beautiful, Winn. Stand still, and talk to me.”

A nervous glance at what she’s wearing, and

then those stormy eyes are on me again, right
where they belong. “I wore almost the same thing
yesterday, just a different color,” she says.

“Doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “You’ve got my

attention.”

She should have a closet full of name-brand

clothes. Winnie deserves to be spoiled and taken
care of, but I can’t do any of those things until
she’s old enough to take my gifts without having to
hide them or lie about where they came from.

I have her attention, too, because she takes a

couple of steps toward me, still twisting her fingers
around the cotton.

“Kiss me?” she whispers.
“Are you asking or telling me?”
I should find out why she’s here first before we

get carried away, but I always lose my head when
she’s this close. All I want to do is touch her.
Winnie thinks I have all the power, but that’s not
true at all. She’s the one in control.

“I’m doing both, I guess. I want you to kiss me,

if you want to.”

I always want to kiss her. “Tell me your plans

first.”

“Plans?” she questions. “I don’t have any yet.

We can make them together. I packed a bag. That’s
all I really have.”

One measly duffel bag is all this girl has to her

name. Thank fuck she has me—well, almost. That’s
the problem, the one part of this arrangement that
could crash and burn. She’s mine, but if she stays
here, they’ll track her down in no time. We’re right
across the street from her last address.

“Winn, you can’t stay here. I don’t even want to

stay here.”

“If this is about school, I’m old enough to drop

out. You only have to be sixteen, so it’s my call,
and I’m not going back.” She says it so fast, her
chest is heaving.

“Winn, I’m on your side. I’m just saying, you

need to be eighteen to live on your own. Nobody’ll
give you a lease yet. Plus, you don’t have any
credit established. There are rules and policies and
—”

She cuts me off and says, “I have no money. I

have nothing. But I’m not going back to Sunshine
Place. I’ll live in a box on the corner if I have to.
Anything is better than going back to that school
with those people.”

“My girl’s not living in a box. If your house

parents find you though, they’ll want you back. I’m
sure they’re already looking.”

She shakes her head. “No, Cindy saw me leave.

Today was my second strike though. She already
warned me, if I got another, I’d be out. So, I left
before she had a chance to call for a new
placement.”

“How do you know she would have forced you

out? Did you explain yourself and tell her you
deserved to stay?”

I’m guessing whatever happened wasn’t her

fault. It never is. Her problems are an unfortunate
consequence of her surroundings.

“How do you know I deserve to be there? Cindy

watched me pack, and she’d said what she said
after I messed up the first time. Her rules were loud
and clear, and I broke them again.”

“And?”

“And? That’s it. Maybe she tried to get me to

stay, but—”

“No buts, Winn. If she tried to get you to stay,

then she wanted you to stay. You need to go back.
Apologize for running, accept your room back, and
wait it out like you were doing. You’re so close to
your birthday.”

Tears well in her eyes, and I want to kiss them

away before they fall down her cheeks. Then, her
lip quivers, and I have to get rid of the remaining
space between us.

“C’mere, Winn.”
She’s in my arms before the first tear falls, and I

wrap them around her trembling shoulders. Her
frame’s smaller than it was before she got shot. The
weight that she gained in the hospital once she
started eating real food is slowly coming off again.

“Breathe,” I whisper. “Just breathe.”
Her tiny hands latch on to fistfuls of my leather

jacket, and I guide her to the couch and sit down.
She curls up in my lap and rests her head on my
shoulder. I swear, she was made for me because she
fits perfectly against my body.

“What are you thinking?” I ask her.
She turns the ring on her thumb around a couple

of times, and her fear’s as loud as it’s been since
she woke up in the hospital with a nightmare about
the night Tess shot her. I wasn’t there to see it, but
it was so bad, Jasper called me. A psychologist

spent the rest of the night with her, just in case the
flashbacks got too bad. It killed me that someone
else got to hold her when I could have taken away
her pain.

“That I don’t want to leave here unless you’re

with me.”

“I want you with me, Winn. The last thing I

want to do is make you go someplace else. But
we’re not legal. I’ll go to jail, and they’ll put you
back in foster care, probably someplace as far away
from me as they can find. You don’t want that, do
you?”

She looks at me through her long lashes and

then climbs out of my lap and starts pacing in front
of the couch. My arms are empty without her.

“Of course not,” she says. “But I can’t go back,

Trey. When I left, I meant it. I have to figure
something else out.”

I’ve spent a lot of late nights and early mornings

trying to figure out how to keep her safe. I’ve
almost worn a hole in the shitty carpet, pacing back
and forth like she is. Night after night, I walk until I
get my head on straight because there really isn’t a
single thing I can do that I want to, like being with
Winnie.

Even the first night I lived here, I was helpless.

Tess was lying in the street, high as a damn kite,
and all I could do was run across, covered in
leather with a helmet on my head, to help her. I

wanted to rip it off and show Winnie that I was
there for her. Had Tess woken up, she wouldn’t
have remembered by morning anyway, but I didn’t
know where Jax was or who else was around. I
stayed hidden and then pressed pieces of paper
against the window to talk to her.

I probably looked like some sick fuck, trying to

communicate with a teenager through a window
instead of talking like a normal human being. But,
like now, I’d do anything to make sure Winnie was
okay. She’s the only person left on this planet I care
about, and I’m forced to stay away because she’s
three weeks shy of a number deemed acceptable by
society.

Life is so fucking unfair.
“I don’t know what to do, Winn. I can’t even

set you up someplace. The social workers are
gonna look for you, and then once the cops find
you, they’ll trace the place right back to me. It’d be
no better than letting you stay here.”

“There has to be somewhere safe. Don’t you

know people who can pull some strings or let me
stay with them? Your boss can make anything
happen. You’ve said so yourself.”

I’m off the couch before she sees me coming,

and my hands are around her waist. “My boss is out
of the question.”

“I don’t even know who he is, Trey.”
“And that’s how it’s staying.”

The thought of him getting his hands on her and

putting her to work makes me nauseous. He’s the
boss for a reason. He doesn’t do favors or accept
bribes. He puts you to work. Winnie would end up
on a corner or used as bait to get money owed to
him. I’ve seen girls die on his watch, trying to get a
thousand bucks from guys who didn’t have ten.

“Do you hear me?” I ask her.
“Ouch, you’re hurting me,” she says.
And I realize I’m gripping her arms pretty damn

hard.

“I’m sorry. Jesus. I didn’t mean to hurt you,

Winn.”

That’s what the thought of her getting caught up

in my world does to me, and I know I have to shut
this down, no matter how mad it makes her. We
can’t run, and she can’t hide. Not yet.

“It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”
She’s always given me the benefit of the doubt.

While I love her for it, it also scares the shit out of
me. Because her heart’s too good sometimes. She’s
not tough enough to make it on her own yet. What
seventeen-year-old girl is? She’s experienced more
than most, but nobody’s ever prepared for the real
world when it comes at them sooner and faster than
they were expecting.

She’s not going to like this, but I say it anyway,

“I need you to go back to Sunshine Place, Winn.
That’s the only way you’ll be safe.” It’s the right

move to make right now.

With a deep breath and blink of her eyes, the

strap of her duffel bag is over her arm, and she’s
headed for the door. “I’ll figure it out,” she says.
“Don’t worry about me.”

I run after her before she can get outside. The

last thing we need is an argument in the middle of
the afternoon when she’s supposed to be at school.

“Where are you going?”
A moody little shrug of her shoulders is all I get.

She’s hurt. I get it.

“I don’t know yet.”
“Do you have your phone?”
“Yeah, but considering Jasper was paying the

bill, I don’t think I’ll have service much longer.”

“Shit.” I didn’t think of that.
After the stunt he pulled here, I’d be surprised if

the thing still worked. He was so angry when I got
outside, his chest was heaving, and he looked like
he’d already gone a couple of rounds with someone
twice his size. But he still stood up to me when I
went after him, and if he hadn’t said Winnie’s name
mid-punch, I’d have done worse than blacken his
eye and twist his arm behind his back.

“I’ll call you from a burner phone in an hour, so

my call can’t be traced. Chances are, Jasper won’t
do anything about the phone until school’s out
anyway.”

“Okay.”

“If you go back to Sunshine Place, call me right

away, so I know you’re safe.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m

not going back?”

I don’t care how mad she is right now. I grab her

hand and pull her against my chest. The bag falls
from her shoulder and lands on the floor next to
her.

“Don’t get smart with me, Winn. The thought of

you wandering around out there is already killing
me. A fight won’t help.”

“I’m sorry.”
“You’re scared. But I am, too. Think about

going back, and if you really can’t do it, then go to
the playground, hide in a slide, and wait for me to
call you.”

She blinks a couple of times and tries not to

smile. “You knew I hid in the slides?”

“I told you, I was always watching.”
“You’re such a freak,” she says with a laugh.
“You like it,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I know.” And then she hoists her bag

onto her shoulder and presses her lips against mine.
The kiss isn’t long enough, but it’s pretty close to
perfect. “I’ve gotta go,” she says in a rush. Then,
she’s pushing her way through the door.

“The playground. Don’t forget.”
“There’s something I have to do before that. But

don’t worry; I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t worry.”
I’ll never stop worrying about her. Not until

we’re far away from Carillon.

Twenty-Five

Jasper

He’s going down.

I won’t let him get away with it.
Someday soon, Winnie will hate him as much as

I do.

She’s mine.
And I won’t give up until she’s climbing through

my window, begging me to hold her again.

I’m coming for you.

Twenty-Six

Winnie

I hide out at the playground like Trey told me to
until it’s dark enough that nobody can tell who I
am. Trey still hasn’t called, and when I checked to
see if my phone was still working, there was no dial
tone. Jasper must have forgotten to pay the bill, or
he cut me off. I’m guessing he figured it wasn’t
getting him anything out of our friendship anymore,
so he should save his pennies. I mean, he told the
whole school I was a slut. I think that was about as
big of a fuck-you as he could have given me. But
he knows the phone is my lifeline, and that’s why it
might sting a little more than the rumors he spread.

Trey will freak out if he gets to the playground,

and I’m not there, but I walk toward The Whip
anyway. Not wanting to be seen wasn’t the only
reason I waited until it was dark outside. I knew
that, if I saw the bloodstain, I’d be paralyzed with

fear again, and I’d never make it inside. I couldn’t
risk it, so I waited. I’m thankful I did because I’m
no longer in control of my body, and my eyes zone
in on the exact spot where I passed out. I can’t see
any marks, and I keep walking.

Ace must see me approaching on the camera

because the intercom says, “Come in,” before I
press the button.

I haven’t been inside since my last shift, and I

prepare myself for the same looks I got when I
went back to school.

But that’s the difference between high school

and the rest of the world; nobody here cares. The
few people I pass probably have problems bigger
than mine.

Ace meets me at the door to his office and

points to the chair in front of his desk. “Take a
seat,” he says. “What’s up?”

“I need a job,” I tell him.
I figured, if I cut right to the chase, he’d take me

seriously. If I can show him that I’m not the fragile
little girl who fell apart and landed in the hospital,
then maybe he’ll give me a chance. I know I’m as
much of a risk to him as I am to Trey, but business
is business, and I can make him a lot of money, just
like we had planned to before the shooting
happened.

“What’s with the bag?” he asks.
“I need a place to stay. Just for a little while

until I have enough to afford something of my
own.”

He pulls his phone out and scrolls through

whatever he’s looking at with his thumb. I sit up a
little straighter because I know what’s coming.

“Do you want me to call my brother? He’s off

tonight, said he wasn’t feeling well, but if I tell him
you’re here, he’ll come in.”

“No,” I say in a rush.
Jasper’s the last person I want to see, and if he

tells Ace about what I do in the trailer or anything
about Trey, I’ll lose any chance I have at working
here.

“I’m sure he’s not really sick, Winnie. Just

wanted a night off because he’s still a punk with no
responsibilities. God, I miss being young.”

“Please, don’t tell him I’m here.”
He sets his phone down and then rests his

elbows on the desk. “You and my brother were
attached at the hip. Now, he gets weird when I
mention your name, and you don’t want to see him.
What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
I don’t. “Look, Ace, if you don’t have anything

for me, then I have to go find someone who does.”

He stares at me and searches my eyes so

intently, I almost change my mind and run for the
door. But running is what got me in this position,

and I can’t keep doing it. Nobody’s ever going to
chase me, so if I want to prove to Trey that I can
get a job and make enough money to put a roof
over my head, then I have to stay.

Even if all I can afford is another shitty trailer in

the park, at least it’ll be mine. I’ve worked enough
babysitting jobs for the clerk in the housing office
here in the park that I think I can get her to falsify
some paperwork and put the trailer in my name. At
least then nobody can trace it back to Trey and get
him in trouble. But all that depends on Ace saying
yes. Without a job at The Whip, I can’t afford
anything.

“Please,” I whisper. “Take a chance, just this

once.”

“I take chances every day, Winnie. And, after

what happened to you here, I can’t imagine why
you’d ever want to step foot back in this place. So,
tell me, what’s changed? How are you sitting here,
breathing, when you almost died in the parking
lot?”

I shrug like it’s no big deal because, if he gets a

glimpse at the fear I carry around with me, I’ll be
ushered right back to the parking lot that almost
took me out. The fact that I’m not having a full-
blown panic attack should be enough, but Ace
needs more.

“I’m on my own now.”
“What happened with the home? Jasper said

you were in a good place across town with some
other kids your age.”

“I was. But it didn’t work out.” I should tell him

how his brother ruined everything for me, but I’m
afraid that, if I talk badly about Jasper, I’ll lose my
only shot at freedom.

Even if Ace has nothing for me, I can hide out

in the restroom until they close up for the night.
Nobody will ever know I’m here. I’ll have a
kitchen full of food, restrooms, and a shower. It’d
be like staying in a hotel, only without the
expensive bill.

“You’re not old enough to do much besides the

job you had before. I can let you bus some tables
and run food after things die down a little. I imagine
your social worker is looking for you.”

I nod, scared that being on the run is a game

changer for Ace. It’s not like I’m actually running.
I’m still in Carillon. I’m just doing things my way
and staying where I want to stay. As long as I’m
safe, Cindy and the social workers shouldn’t care.

“I promise it’ll be like I’m not even here. No

trouble.”

“What about Jasper? You’ll be working

alongside him again. Won’t that be weird for you?”

My mouth’s so dry, it’s hard to swallow. I’ve

never put myself out there like this, and what I’m
about to say shocks me just as much as it’s about to
shock Ace. But I have no choice. I can’t work with

Jasper and pretend like he didn’t hurt me. For all I
know, working with him could make my life worse.
I can only be so invisible, and that’s why I need to
do something else. I need to stay away from the
kitchen.

“I want to dance, Ace.”
“What?” he spits. He wasn’t expecting me to

ever go there.

Rock bottom is a funny place though, and you

do what you have to do to dig your way back out.

“You passed out all those flyers with my face on

them. People from three towns over were coming
to your bar to see me. If the shooting hadn’t
happened, I would have been on your stage,
making you a whole lot of money. I can still do
that.”

“Tess was the reason for that, Winnie. She’s not

here anymore, and you owe her nothing.”

“I’m not doing this for Tess. This time, it’s for

me.” And the more cash I bring in for Ace, the
more I’ll pocket. A couple of times onstage, and I’ll
be able to afford a trailer and all the bills that go
along with it. I’ll be set.

Ace stands up and peers through the blinds like

he’s already worried his door’s about to get busted
down by the cops. I’ve never seen him so nervous.

“Is this some kind of setup?”
“No, Ace. This is me asking a friend for a

favor.”

“It’s too dangerous, Winnie. You’ll get noticed

onstage. At least, if you stay in the kitchen, there’s
a better chance that nobody will find you. The
stage puts a huge target on your back with the cops
and with the other girls.”

I’m not worried about the other girls. Most of

them are nicer than Tess ever was, and if I stay out
of their way, they won’t notice me. All they want is
their time onstage to make enough to feed their
habits and their children. At least with me, I’m not
old enough to take their men and do any extra
favors. I can bring them in, and they can reap the
rewards.

“Ace, most of the dancers wear wigs. They

cover their faces in so much makeup, they end up
being completely different versions of themselves. I
can become someone else for a little while, too.”

His movements become less agitated, and he

might even be growing a little patience. He liked
the idea a couple of weeks ago. His mind couldn’t
have changed that fast.

“How do you plan on getting by Jasper?

Because, if he sees you onstage, he’ll pull you off
himself. And then he’ll try to kick my ass for
allowing it.”

“He won’t care anymore. Things are different.”
Ace sits back in his chair and laughs. He’s not

laughing at me, but he’s not laughing with me
either. “I’m starting to think you need your eyes

checked. My brother is so fucking in love with you,
it’s sickening. His world revolves around you,
Winnie. I don’t know how you can’t see that.”

If smashing windows and spreading vicious

rumors around school is how Jasper shows his love,
then he has a twisted heart.

“Let me worry about Jasper. I can make this

happen whether he agrees with it or not. It’s not his
call. It’s yours and mine.”

I can almost see the wheels turning inside Ace’s

head. He knows it’s wrong to let a minor on the
stage, especially one dodging the cops, but money’s
always been his sole motivator. He can’t deny the
dollar signs and the cash flow I’d bring in. Someone
new. Someone nobody’s seen before. Someone so
unexpected, word would spread like wildfire,
maybe even more than it did the last time I was
supposed to dance.

Does that make me feel cheap?
Yes.
Do I hate myself for making this decision?
Of course.
But does it get me closer to a life with Trey?
Hopefully.
If I play my cards right, I can solve our

problems. Trey’s felt helpless, like his hands are
tied because of the law, so if I can give him me
without any of the risks, I’ll suffer through three
weeks of dancing until my pockets are full and we

can escape.

Trey just can’t find out. And I haven’t figured

out how I’ll make that happen, but there’s gotta be
a way.

“Do we have a deal, Ace?” My voice radiates

confidence, but my knees are shaking beneath the
desk. If I were to stand up right now, I’d fall into a
heap on the floor.

“We have a deal,” he says with less hesitation.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

“I’ve got this.”
He rubs his hands over his face and then pushes

his chair away from the desk. “You can stay at my
place tonight. We’ll work with one of the girls to
get you set up with everything you need. If you’re
ready, you can dance tomorrow night.”

“I’ll be ready,” I tell him.
I have to be. The rest of my life is on the line.

Twenty-Seven

Trey

I’ve searched the playground ten times, and there’s
no sign Winnie’s ever been here. The tube slides
are empty, no visible footprints lead in any
direction, and her phone’s completely dead. I knew
better than to let her go without a way to get in
touch because, now, she’s wandering around the
trailer park in the dark with no place to go.

Another twenty minutes go by, and I’m no

closer to tracking her down than I was when I
started, so I park my bike in the driveway and wait
inside the trailer, just in case she comes back. I told
her not to, but when does Winnie ever listen? She’s
used to being on her own, doing whatever she
needs to do to keep her head above water. For that
reason, I knew foster care would be a struggle for
her. Rules, boundaries, curfews—she was only used
to Tess’s skewed take on those.

I wish she had stayed at Sunshine Place for a

couple of more weeks. Maybe she didn’t click with
everyone in the house, but living there was still
better than drifting around town, waiting for the sun
to go down so that we could be together for a little
while.

Fuck, where is she?
Another call to her dead phone, and then I

chuck mine across the room. I should check the
hospital or maybe her foster home, but if I go there,
it’ll only cause more trouble. The last thing I need
is another person tracking my movements. I can’t
do shit but stay here and wait.

The phone plays the ringtone I set aside for

unknown numbers, and usually, I’d let it go to voice
mail. But it could be Winnie, so I get up and try to
decipher the number.

Nothing comes to mind, and before I even get it

to my ear, I hear her say, “It’s me, Trey. Don’t be
mad.”

Mad? That’s not a strong enough word to

describe what I’d feel if something had happened to
her.

Seeing her on the ground at The Whip destroyed

me. I was positive I’d never see her again and that,
by the time I got to the hospital, they’d tell me
she’d passed away. What would I have done then?
I’d have run as far away as I could get without her,
and that would have made life pointless. She’s why

I’ve stuck around as long as I have. She’s the
reason I look forward to tomorrow because she’s
one day older and one day closer to being with me
for real.

“Why weren’t you where I told you to be?”
“Trey,” she whispers, “don’t treat me like a

child.”

She doesn’t want this to be about age, yet she’s

always reminding me about the difference. I get
that telling her to wait for me on a damn
playground is about as sick as it gets, but our
options are so limited in places she can hide, so
what was I supposed to do? Tell her to wait for me
on the porch for the world to see?

“This has nothing to do with age. I went looking

for you and panicked when I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry.”
I take a deep breath and decide this isn’t worth

a fight. She’s in one piece, and we have too much
to figure out to deal with an argument.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Winn. Where are you?”
“That’s what I don’t want you to be mad about.

I can’t tell you, but I’m safe, and I have a plan.
Everything is working out like I want it to.”

Working out?
She’s not with me, so it definitely isn’t going as I

planned.

“Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.”
“You can’t do that,” she says.

Her voice is lower now, like she’s trying to keep

quiet so that nobody hears her. She’s never called
me from her foster home, so she’s not there. The
playground was empty. That doesn’t exactly leave
any other favorable places for her to be. Not decent
ones anyway. If she’s at The Whip, I’ll lose my shit.

“I’ll trace this call and find you myself if I have

to.”

“Please,” she begs, “I need you to trust me.”
I trusted her to stay where the state put her, so I

didn’t have to worry about nights like this. But she
didn’t do that. I trusted she’d stay away from The
Whip and that, if things with Tess were too bad for
her to handle, she’d reach out for help. She didn’t
do that either.

“Are you with Jasper?”
“No. I promise I’m not with him. We’re done,

Trey. I told you that.”

I don’t totally understand what happened

between them, but after finding him outside the
trailer, stepping over broken shards of glass, I’m not
complaining. He’s the last guy I want near Winnie.
Messing up my property is one thing; I can deal
with that. It’s just some glass, but he scared her.
I’ve pulled Winnie out of some dark places before,
and I never want to find her crouched in the back
of a closet again.

“Okay,” I tell her with a defeated sigh.
She sniffles a little, but I don’t think she’s

crying.

“Trey, I love you. Please, trust me.”
Normally, I’d shut her down before she had a

chance to plead her case. The fact that I’m even
considering leaving her on her own tonight says a
lot about how far we’ve come and how much
progress she’s made since she’s gotten away from
Tess. Winnie would never choose to be on her own
when she could be with me. So, whatever she’s
doing, it must mean a hell of a lot to her.

Going behind her back and tracing her call

would turn me into a parent, not the equal I’m
trying so hard to be.

“When will I see you, Winn?”
“Tomorrow,” she says. “I’ll call you when I

have everything worked out.”

“Fine.”
“Really? You trust me? I can stay?”
She was gearing up for a war. But I’m not Tess.

She needs room to breathe and grow, and I
promised myself I wouldn’t get in her way while
she did it. I guess this is my first test.

“I trust you. Call me if you need me before

tomorrow. I love you.”

She’s smiling. I hear it in her voice when she

says, “Thank you. I love you, too.”

After she hangs up, I stare at the phone for a

solid ten minutes, going back and forth with my
conscience. I told her I trusted her, and here I am,

debating on going against my word and using the
resources I have to trace the call.

I convince myself not to do it. That doesn’t

mean I don’t dial Jasper’s number and pray he
answers. He does, and I listen for Winnie’s voice in
the background. All I get is some breathing and
silence. Chances are, Winnie’s not with him, but I
feel better that I checked, and I hang up.

Twenty-Eight

Winnie

Ace’s couch was lumpy, and one of Lydia’s toys
poked me in the ribs during the night. It was lodged
in between the cushions, and I was too afraid to see
what it might be until I couldn’t take it anymore.
The doll was missing an arm, and I chucked it
across the room toward the toy bin.

Eventually, I stopped thinking about Trey and

fell asleep. Knowing he wasn’t across town, that he
was just a few trailers away, was killing me. The
first night out of foster care, and there I was,
sleeping on a couch, while the man I wanted was so
close. But, if I had snuck out of Ace’s trailer and
into Trey’s, I would have broken my promise. I told
Trey I could handle being on my own last night, and
going to him would have made me look like a liar.

Ace wanders into the living room, scratching the

back of his head and messing his hair up even more

than it already is. If I were with Trey, he’d have
woken up shirtless, and he’d already have coffee in
his hand. I love kissing his warm lips after he takes
a sip.

“You okay?” Ace asks.
I’m staring. “I’m good,” I tell him.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Fine.”
Another glance over his shoulder, and then his

head’s in the fridge. It’s nearly noon, and my
stomach’s so empty, I can’t tell if I’m nauseous or
just hungry. But I won’t be able to eat until I figure
out how to make tonight happen.

“I worked on updating the website last night.

You’re on the schedule.”

“Did you use my real name?”
“No,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not stupid,

Winnie.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you were. I’m just

nervous I’ll get stopped before I get started.”

He scrambles some eggs and dumps some cereal

in a bowl. “I have you listed as a special guest. No
picture. So, whoever shows up will have no idea
who they’re even looking for. Just something
different and enticing.”

“You think that’s enough to bring people in?”
“We’ve done it once before, and it worked.”
“Who was it?”
“She was only there a week. Needed some fast

cash, like you, and then she took off. I haven’t
heard from her since. I can make it even better this
time.”

I’m Ace’s project, the first item on his to-do list.

I heard him up most of the night, tapping away on
his keyboard in the bedroom. I figured it had to do
with me, and I wasn’t sure if his efforts made me
feel good or cheap. Dollar signs are good, but what
if I can’t go through with it? I want this more than
anything—to show the world that Winnie Dawes is
capable of making it on her own—but I always
thought I’d do that someplace else. Maybe college
and getting a degree or having my own clothing line
someday. I didn’t think my claim to fame would be
at the hands of Ace and The Whip.

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” I tell him, not wanting

to seem ungrateful for the opportunity he’s giving
me.

He could have just as easily kicked me out of his

office and told me I was crazy. I’d have had to go
back to Trey last night and either begged him to let
me stay or went back to Sunshine Place to go
wherever Cindy and the social worker felt was best.

“You’re quiet, Winnie. Are you having second

thoughts? I can shut this down before it goes any
further.”

I never had any first thoughts, if there was such

a thing. Dancing was never at the forefront of my
mind, only the money.

“I don’t want to be Tess; that’s all.”
Ace sets his spatula down and turns the stove

off. Then, he sits next to me on the couch, and I
wait for him to touch me. He doesn’t—thankfully.

“Tess danced for the attention,” he tells me.

“She got up there, so everyone would watch her.
The money bought her drugs, but it wasn’t her
motivator, believe it or not. After your dad died,
she was lost, like you were. But that’s the only
thing you have in common.”

Tess had the ability to be a total bitch to people

yet still make them care. Because no good human
wants to watch another crash and burn, and even
though Ace runs a shady operation sometimes, he’s
still a good person.

“You felt bad for her. I get it.”
“Yes, and no,” he says. “She made me a lot of

money because the wilder she was when she
danced and worked the bar, the more attention she
got. She was lonely, masking her pain with the
drugs and then begging for attention with her body.
She didn’t know how to get it any other way.”

“Do you think she was ever faithful to my dad?”
“Maybe at first. But she wasn’t well, Winnie.

Addicts never are. I should have fired her a million
times, but as long as she was at The Whip, she was
alive. She had a reason to get up in the morning,
and it was less time she was at home with you. But,
if I had known how it would end up, I would have

done it differently. I should have called someone
and got you out of there.”

“You didn’t know, Ace. Sure, Tess hated me.

Nobody knew she’d shoot me though.”

“I’m glad she’s in jail, Winnie. She needed to

break the cycle.”

“I’m glad, too.”
Dad’s death changed us both. Tess got worse,

and I cut more. What would he think of me now? I
pray it’s too cloudy for him to see me from heaven
because, if he knew I was following in Tess’s
footsteps, dancing in her spot in the lineup, he’d
roll over in his grave.

I’m sorry, Daddy.
“Let’s go to the club, and we’ll get you set up.

You don’t have to make your final choice until
tonight. No pressure.”

I already know I’ll go through with it. Ace has

my word, and I won’t take it back. That’s not what
adults do.

The front door opens without so much as a

knock or a ring of the bell. Jasper walks inside and
tosses his book bag on the floor. He looks up, and
his eyes collide with mine. His stare is so cold, I
pull the blanket up to my chin and sink as low as I
can beneath it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says with a

laugh that’s neither funny nor intoxicating, like his
usually are.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Ace tells him.
“Then, what is it? Because it looks to me like

you spent the night with Winnie.”

These are the last few hours of being the Winnie

Jasper thought he was in love with. Tonight, I’ll
transform into a girl Jasper wouldn’t give the time
of day to.

I’ve had plenty of practice with transforming

into someone else. Every day of my life, I wake up
and act like I’m okay with who I am and where I
came from. I pretend that I’m not ashamed that my
father overdosed or that his pathetic wife despised
me so much that she shot me.

I swore, life would be different after the bullet

was removed from my body. The counselors spent
hours with me, trying to get my mind to a safer
place. We talked about goals and intentions, and
they helped me build plans for the future.

We talked about the days after graduation and a

life full of exciting opportunities. They believed in
me. But, as soon as they walked away, I went back
to bleeding inside. The scars blistered through my
skin until I was so full of shame and defeat, I
stopped believing better existed. Their plans
weren’t for me. They were for them—to make
them feel better about everything I wasn’t saying.
All the abuse and neglect. All the parts of my story
I’d left out because they were too heavy to say out
loud.

Nancy, the social worker, and the counselors

didn’t hear the stories about being forced to try
alcohol when I was ten or giving a blow job at
twelve. They didn’t understand what it was like to
see white powder on a mirror when you were six
and then wondering why you couldn’t have any
when it made your parents and their friends so
happy. Or what it was like to go to bed with an
extra layer of clothes on just because it put more
time between you and a stranger. Time for them to
get caught when they had to struggle to get it off.

I’m nothing more than a hoarder of truths. And,

now, I’m about to shed those layers and tell some
of the biggest lies of my life. That I want to do this.
That I’m okay. And that I’ll make it to the other
side without another scar on my body.

“He didn’t touch me, Jasper. Not that it’s any of

your business.”

Jasper closes his eyes and then opens them. His

bruise isn’t quite as black, and there’s a little bit of
green around the purple edges. “We need to talk,
Winnie.”

“Is that why you came here?”
“No,” he says. “How was I supposed to know

you were on my brother’s couch?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one who

knows every move I make. And even the ones I
don’t.”

Ace stands up and says, “I’ll be in the shower.”

I can’t blame him for wanting out of this

conversation. Jasper’s intense, and I’m not giving
him much room to breathe. Not after what he did to
Trey’s trailer and at school.

“I didn’t start that rumor, Winnie. I’d never do

that to you.”

“You’re such a liar. Dray told me it was you.”
Jasper shakes his head. “Since when is his word

gold and mine shit? We were best friends. I stayed
by your side the entire time you were in the
hospital. Then, you moved into the foster home,
and Alex took my place. Everything changed, just
like that.”

“That’s not true.”
It is true.
I was never trying to replace Jasper. Dray just

lived with me. He understood what my world was
like. He felt pain like mine, and I’d never met
anyone else who was struggling like that.

I’m about to tell him I’m sorry, but I stop

myself. I’m done apologizing for situations and
reactions that weren’t my fault. Whether I changed
or he did, he still did unforgiveable things to me and
Trey. Jasper knew what would hurt the worst, and
that’s why he did it.

Ace grabs his keys off the counter and looks at

me. “Take your time, Winnie. I’ll talk to you later.
Jasper, lock up when you’re done.”

He’s being vague for my sake, and I’m thankful.

I need to get out of here and get to The Whip. I’m
going to need every second of time between now
and when I go onstage to get myself together.
There’s the outfit, the wig, the music. All of it has
to be perfect, or I’ll crash and burn. But I’ll do that
anyway if I get caught before that.

“I have to shower,” I tell Jasper. “And then I

have to get going.”

“There are a couple of things I need to say.”
“What’s it matter?”
Nothing that comes out of his mouth will change

my mind about what I want or where I plan to go.
I’m done with all things high school, and that
includes my friendship with Jasper. He hurt me. He
ruined us. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. Still,
I stand here and wait for him to say something else.
I give him time he hasn’t earned and a chance to
explain himself.

Jasper glances at the duffel bag, full of what

little I own, and then back to me. He knows its
significance and the importance of it being here and
not at Sunshine Place. “Because I have this feeling
you won’t be in Carillon much longer.”

This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.

Although there’s never going to be a time I want to
tell Jasper my plans. He lost the right to be involved
in my life, and I won’t give it back to him.

“I really need to shower and get out of here.”
“I’ll wait.”

I don’t want him to wait, especially now that it’s

just the two of us. If Trey finds out we’re here
alone, he’ll lose his mind. But what choice do I
have? I can’t push Jasper out of his brother’s home
and then slam the door in his face.

Can I?
You always have a choice, Winnie.
Today isn’t about choices. It’s about plans.
“Actually, I’m just gonna get going. I’ll shower

later.”

There’s a full working bathroom in Ace’s office.

I’ll use it when I get there.

“I’ll walk you home then.”
“I want you to leave, Jasper. Just leave me

alone, and let me go on with my life. You did
enough,” I tell him.

He watches me fold the blanket and set the

pillow on top of it. My heart races because he
won’t take his eyes off me, and I’ve never yelled at
him like that. I’ve never purposely hurt anyone’s
feelings, and knowing how bad it hurts to be shut
out and pushed aside, guilt starts to flood back into
my veins. The same guilt that’s drowned me until I
cut my skin open and let it bleed back out.

“Take a shower. Do whatever you need to do.

I’ll leave you alone.” Jasper opens the front door
and turns the lock on the knob.

“Wait,” I blurt out. “Will you stay until I’m

finished?”

The cloud over Jasper’s head lifts, and his eyes

trace every inch of my face.

“This doesn’t mean anything. I don’t forgive

you.”

“But you don’t want to be alone. You’re still

scared, and deep down, you still trust me, Winnie. I
know you do. I see it in your eyes. There’s no fear,
just sadness.”

It’s true. Despite the rumor and ruining what

little I had left of my life, Jasper doesn’t scare me
the way Jax or one of his friends would. Maybe it’s
his connection to Ace or the fact that he’s here,
trying to make things right—nobody ever wants to
make it right with me—but I’m not afraid. As much
as I need to get away from Jasper, I need him to
stay, too.

“I’m sad because you disappointed me,” I tell

him. “The one person who I never expected to let
me down did.”

“I didn’t,” he whispers. “I didn’t.”
“I have to shower.”
Jasper doesn’t move or say another word. He

just lets me go inside the bathroom and watches as I
close and lock the door behind me. I take the
fastest shower I can even though I want to stand
under the hot water for hours, and then I dress and
throw my wet hair in a knot on top of my head.
When I open the door, he’s leaning against the
doorframe, messing with his phone.

It reminds me of the dead one in my bag, so I

dig it out and hand it back to him.

“Keep it,” he says.
“It doesn’t work.”
“I was late with the bill. It’s working again.”
He presses a button on his, and my phone lights

up in my hand. As much as I want the safety of
having it in my pocket, I can’t keep it. It wouldn’t
be right, and Trey already said he’d replace it.

“You shouldn’t be spending your money on me,

Jasper. You need it.”

“You need it more than I do. Especially if

you’re not going back to school.”

I’m not talking to him about my plans, so I tuck

the phone back in my bag and take a step toward
the door. Jasper’s fingers wrap around the knob
before mine, and I wait for him to open the door.
He pauses, says nothing, and then drops his hand.

He turns toward me and slides his hand up my

arm until his palm cradles my cheek. I wait for
words. They still don’t come. Instead of the
conversation he so badly wanted, he crashes his lips
against mine. I try to push him away, but he grabs
my face in both hands and holds on to me so tightly,
I can’t turn my head or move.

My hands ball into fists, and I punch his back

with all my might until his demanding kisses
become less forceful, and I find myself hitting him
less. Eventually, the struggle ends, and I find myself

kissing him back. It confuses me so much, tears
pool in my eyes. I blink once, and they fall onto
Jasper’s face and then mine.

Jasper hesitates, but I don’t stop. I kiss him

again and again to figure out if what I’m feeling is
meant for him or Trey. Because they’re both
running through my mind right now. I love Trey. I
miss Jasper. And I don’t know what this kiss will
mean once we stop.

I can’t do this. It’s wrong.
But how can kissing Trey feel so right when it’s

against the law and kissing Jasper be wrong? I don’t
understand. Why can’t I want Jasper the way I
want Trey?

Because he doesn’t have my whole heart.

There’s less history. Less need and want and desire.
Less everything.

Jasper’s my safety net. He’s always been that

for me, and kissing him only messes that up. We
can’t be together. We’ll never be together.

I want Trey.
I’m positive.
But, if I love Trey, then why do Jasper’s lips feel

so good on mine?

Why aren’t I pulling away as his hands roam up

and down my back?

I can’t stop.
And I have no idea why I don’t want to.
Fear.

That’s what this is about.
Fear has me both paralyzed and intoxicated.

Twenty-Nine

Jasper

Taking chances, you can either make it or break it.
Most teenagers are risk-takers. We’re supposed to
make ninety percent of our bad choices before we
graduate college and then get married. After that,
all the fun and games turn into responsibilities and
expectations.

I’ve watched it happen to my brother. Before he

had a kid, he did as he pleased and got into his fair
share of trouble. Bad decisions were as routine as
going to work, and he didn’t seem to care. Until
Lydia came along. Until his girlfriend panicked and
left. She wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility,
and she left the baby with my brother, who had
never changed a diaper in his life.

Because of his bad choices, I grew up. I became

the guy who watched from afar and didn’t care
what the rest of the crowd was doing. I paid

attention to the invisible girl who was so lonely and
afraid, she never looked up from the floor. She sat
in class and pretended the teachers couldn’t see her
even though they watched her with sadness in their
eyes.

I waited for my moment, that one little glimpse

she’d give me, and then I stepped in. I didn’t think
she’d ever look at me, but when it happened, I felt
it through every inch of my body. Turns out, I had
been merely existing, too, and I was finally ready to
start living.

With that one look from Winnie, my world went

from routine, regular, and boring to exciting.
Thinking about her spiked my heart rate. Seeing her
almost made me have a heart attack. And, when we
spoke, that was like forever bottled up in a jar. I
knew it would only last for a short time, and that
once the jar was opened, the moments we’d shared
would evaporate into thin air. I thought that we
could bottle up more moments and then release
them together.

I wanted all of Winnie.
Until she came along, I had been afraid of

relationships. I saw the hell my dad had put my
mom through and decided I’d focus on a career
instead. It was the only way not to get hurt. But life
threw me a curveball, and when I least expected it,
I caught feelings for the invisible girl.

Barely anyone else noticed when she walked by.

They could brush against her or practically run her
down, but they only saw a shadow of a person. Not
me. I saw Winnie for her beauty, her light, her
darkness, and I didn’t care about the demons she
kept locked up inside. I had those, too.

Winnie wasn’t a project or a challenge to

conquer; she was worth all the effort in the world.
And that shy girl who was scary as hell to approach
became my comfort zone.

“Jasper,” she mumbles against my mouth. It’s a

mix between a groan and a plea to stop.

I back up and let her catch her breath. Mine’s

lodged in my stomach, and my chest heaves as I
stare at her. She wipes her mouth with the back of
her hand, dazed but hopefully less confused than
she was a couple of minutes ago. Because that kiss
was everything. I didn’t plan it. It just felt right in
the moment, and I don’t want to question it.

Winnie does though. “What was that for?” she

asks with a shaky voice.

“That was a long time coming. Don’t you

think?”

I can tell the moment she comes crashing down

from the high of that kiss. The reality of what just
happened sets in, and panic erupts. She tries to step
around me, and I anticipate her move and block her
from leaving.

“Please don’t run,” I tell her. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t.”

“Just say something. Anything.”
“I have to go.”
Touching her will probably make it worse. She

hates being touched without warning. For some
reason, she’s been okay with me. If anyone else
had just kissed her the way I did, she’d be in the
middle of a full-blown panic attack.

“Breathe, Winnie,” I tell her as I place my

hands on her shoulders and wait for her to look me
in the eyes.

At first, they dart everywhere, and when she

runs out of things to look at, I get those stormy eyes
back.

“I’ll let you leave, I promise. Just think about it.

Before you run away and forget about this place,
think about that kiss. Think about us.”

A tiny nod is all she can give me, and I don’t

expect anything more. That was hard enough for
her.

“I’ll call you,” she says. “When I can talk.”
She won’t. Winnie’s not good at initiating

conversation. I’ll have to track her down and most
likely coerce her to have another conversation. It’ll
be awkward and somewhat forced, but I’ll do it
because she deserves it. Because nobody’s ever
taken the time to show her how much she matters
—except Trey.

“I need you, Winnie. Just remember that.

Wherever you’re going, imagine me with you.”

Her hand’s shaking when she reaches for the

door again. I stay out of her way and let her feel the
knob in her palm. It’s enough to steady her arm,
and then she twists her wrist and throws it open.
She’s in such a hurry to get to where she’s going—
or maybe just to get away from me—that she jumps
down the stairs and runs across the street.

As much as I want to follow her, I don’t. If I’ve

learned anything about Winnie, it’s that chasing her
does more harm than good. My face is the perfect
example.

Thirty

Winnie

What have I done?

My feet pound against the ground, and I sprint

as fast as I can toward The Whip. The strap on my
bag is hanging on by a few threads, and one of us is
going to break before I get there. I can’t slow down
though, and every few steps, I look over my
shoulder to make sure Jasper’s not following me.
I’m still so mad at him and completely confused
about the personality whiplash he’s giving me. One
moment, he’s cold and closed off. The next, he’s
grabbing me and kissing me so hard, I can’t
breathe. But what did the kiss mean if he’s letting
me walk away from him? He’s not the kind of guy
to give up that easily.

I could probably make it inside the building

without being noticed. The chances I’m being
followed are slim, but I still stop at the playground,

thankful that it’s empty. Once I tuck myself inside
the tube slide, I stay crouched inside for a full
twenty minutes until I’m positive I really am all
alone.

If Jasper were following, he’d have peeked

inside to ask me what I was doing. Trey already
knows about my hiding spot, so he’d have looked,
too. Still, I’m cautious when I climb back out and
fill my lungs with oxygen that doesn’t smell like
plastic.

My body’s stiff, and it’s harder to get my legs to

move as quickly as I want them to. Ace must be
waiting for me because he unlocks the back door
from inside his office as soon as I press the
intercom button. With my head down, I walk
straight to his office. Nobody says a word to me.

He takes my bag and sets it on the floor,

scanning me like Cindy did when she picked me up
from the hospital. She did the same thing every
time I came home, and I always wondered what it
was she was looking for.

Ace isn’t stupid, but he’s not as cautious as

Cindy either. I’m terrible at making eye contact on
a good day. Considering I just made out with his
brother, I’m even more awkward than usual.

“Are you okay, Winnie? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Did Jasper come here with you?”
“No.”

Ace doesn’t push any further. He forgets about

whatever might or might not have happened with
Jasper and says, “Crystal gathered a couple of
costumes from the dressing room. She said, when
you’re ready, she’ll help you pick one.”

He pulls out a box from underneath his desk and

sets it in front of me. I don’t think I’ve met Crystal,
and I take that as a good sign. Tess never talked
about her, so that must mean she’s one of the nice
girls. Tess only ran her mouth about the ones who
were threats.

But I don’t care what I wear tonight. I just want

to put on what I’m told to wear and get this over
with. The less I have to worry about, the better
because too much stress will land me in the
restroom with a razor. And I can’t go onstage with
blood trickling down my thigh.

“You can choose. I have no idea what the

customers want to see.”

Ace shows me a red wig and a blonde one, a

few different dresses the size of postage stamps,
and shoes to go with each one. They’re not the kind
of heels I teetered around in before. These are even
higher with thick platform bottoms. I’ve seen them
on runways in my design classes. A few times, even
the models couldn’t handle them, and they fell flat
on their faces.

My discomfort is obvious, and Ace sets a silver

sequined dress, clear plastic pumps, a black thong,

and matching bra aside. I assume it’s the outfit he’s
chosen for me until he dumps it into the trash can.

“I think we need a different approach, Winnie.”
“What do you mean?”
He checks the rest of the box and then sets it

aside. “I’d expect any of the other girls to show up,
wearing this stuff. You’re different though. You
need a look that nobody’s ever done before.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Ace stops mid-

conversation to check who it is through the
peephole. He has to be as careful as I do. If the
wrong person gets a glimpse of me, Ace can get
shut down before this ever happens. I know it’s
safe to stay where I’m at when he willingly opens
the door and steps aside.

“Crystal,” Ace says, “did you get what I asked

for?”

She nods and hands him a shopping bag from a

store at the mall. The bag’s full of brand-new
clothes with the tags still on. That makes me feel a
little less trashy. I won’t be wearing hand-me-
downs.

“What do you think, Winnie?”
There aren’t any tassels or rhinestones on this

outfit. Not a single sequin either. Just a jean skirt, a
red crop top, and a regular white bra and panties
you’d find in any department store in America. No
frills, no lace, just cotton.

The clothes are a lot like me—boring and not

nearly sexy enough to draw a crowd or earn any
tips.

As much as I don’t want to wear the other

clothes, I’m honest with Ace because I want to
make as much money as I can. “Girls at the mall
show more skin.”

Laughing, he says, “I’ve seen you in heels,

Winnie. I think boots and a bandana are safer.”

Without asking, Crystal pulls the hair tie out of

my hair and runs her fingers through the damp
strands. My shoulders stiffen, and she stops
momentarily until I relax. I understand she’s here to
help me, but if her touching me makes me cringe,
how will I ever take my clothes off in front of a
roomful of strangers?

She’s calm and gentle when she says, “How

about we figure out your hair and makeup? Then,
we can work on the music and do a practice run
before it gets busy.”

Practice?
If I get on that stage, I’m going for it. I can’t

even dance, but I’ll give it all I’ve got. I have to.

“That’s a good idea,” Ace says. “I have a

couple of songs in mind. Go get started.”

These choices aren’t up to me anymore, so I say,

“Okay.”

I got myself here, and now, they’ll help me see it

through. Maybe they’ll even have a way to help me
get out of my head long enough to be decent.

An hour later, Crystal has used all her makeup

on my face, and my eyelashes are so heavy with
the fake ones she put on top of mine, it takes actual
energy to blink. She doesn’t let me look in the
mirror until red hair hangs all the way down my
back in long tendrils.

“I think we’ll call you Ariel,” she says. “Our

very own Disney princess.”

Princesses don’t take their clothes off. Plus,

Ariel was in the ocean, not a country girl on a farm
with a jean skirt and boots.

“I’ll never be a princess,” I whisper.
That dream died along with my dad. He’s the

only one who thought I came close. Now, I’m just a
girl who strips and pretends.

“It’s really not so bad, Winnie. Once you get

used to the makeup and hair, it’ll become part of
you. You’ll relate more to your stage name than
your real one.”

I don’t see that happening. Trey calls me Winn,

and that’s when I feel the most like myself. He
leaves out an entire syllable, and it’s still more
fulfilling than my whole name.

“What was your first time like?” I ask her.
She sets the brush down on the vanity and leans

against it. Her arms cross around her middle, and all
the confidence she’s shown by taking care of me
disappears. Crystal’s vulnerable, and I’m glad she’s
not numb like Tess was.

“I was younger than you,” she admits. “The

manager before Ace owned the apartment my
mother rented from him. She had her fair share of
problems and got behind on the bills. They worked
out a deal that kept her off the stage and a roof
over my head. I considered us lucky until he
brought me to work with him one night. Mom had
to work a double shift, and I called her about ten
times, telling her I didn’t want to leave the house.
He took me anyway, and I ended up back here with
all of this. I had no idea this world existed. I
thought strippers were only in the movies.”

“He made you dance?”
She nods and looks at the floor for a few

seconds. When her eyes meet mine again, her pain
is as real as my own.

“I danced to pay the rent. Mom worked in the

office to pay the rest of the bills. Together, we kept
the apartment.”

She doesn’t tell me how old she was. All she

says is, “Sometimes, we do things we don’t want to
do because it’s what’s best for other people. At the
time, I wanted my mom to be happy and not
stressed out and sick over money. I knew that, if we
lost the apartment, we’d be homeless. So, for me, it
was better to come here and do this than to face the
alternative. I loved my mom enough to try.”

“But you’re old enough to be on your own now.

Why do you stay?”

“We all have our reasons, some better than

others, but once you get a taste, it’s not easy to
walk away. You’ll make better money here in an
hour than a month at another job.”

That’s what I want. The money.
“Nobody can find out. If they do, I’ll lose

everything.”

Trey would hate me. Working in the kitchen was

one thing, but the stage? He’d never be okay with
that. And Jasper already thinks I’m a slut. He told
the whole school. Being here would only give him
more ammunition to use against me. Not that it
matters. I’m not going back to school.

But it does matter, especially after the way he

just kissed me. He hurt me, and I still care what he
thinks of me. That’s the girl I am and always will
be.

Crystal squeezes my hand and smiles. “If you

walk out right now, nobody would blame you.
Because, once the clothes come off, you can’t ever
get rid of those feelings.”

Her honesty makes me second-guess everything.

Even if I could dance and was really good, I’m
almost positive I’d never last more than a couple of
weeks. That’s still a lot of time but not long enough
for me to forget where I came from or who I don’t
want to become. Because, every single time I look
at the stage, I see Tess—her bad attitude, the drugs,
the pain she inflicted—and I need to run away. I

can only calm myself so many times before I’ll be
back in the hospital because of myself.

I need some air, but Crystal says, “Follow me,”

and I get up.

It’s safe to walk around in the makeup and wig.

If I don’t recognize my own reflection, nobody else
will either.

Crystal takes the back way toward the stage, so

we don’t have to walk through the bar, and once
we get to the curtain separating the lies from the
real world, she pulls the side back and lets me take
a look out into the pit. They call it the pit because
it’s always full of vipers looking for their bite.

“When it’s your turn, stand in the center of the

stage, right on the yellow dot on the floor, and let
the spotlight shine on you until the music starts. As
soon as you hear it, you’re on your own until the
song ends.”

“Are they allowed to touch me?”
“Not onstage, only if you want to do a private

dance in the back room. Technically, we’re not
supposed to ever let them touch us, but you’ll get
more money if you let them. Just remember that
word spreads, so if you let one break the rules,
they’ll all expect the same treatment.”

I can’t handle touching. It’d be too much like

the nights in the trailer when I couldn’t move or
open my mouth to say no. All I could do was let
them do what they wanted until it was over.

“I need to use the restroom,” I lie.
And, while she stares into the pit and watches

the vipers arrive, I take off toward the dressing
room.

In the short amount of time I was gone,

someone wrote Ariel above my mirror, like this is a
permanent position. At first, I want to scratch it
out, but the longer I stare at my reflection and those
big black letters, I start to feel a little more like her
and a little less like me.

The girl beside me, Ashlyn—as it says above her

mirror—hands me a little silver tray covered in
pills. “Take what you want, and pass it along,” she
says without a second glance.

Crystal didn’t mention this part, and she’s not

here to ask. Her chair’s still empty, and when the
girl on my other side gives me an impatient glare, I
pluck two off the tray and pass it to her.

I’m clutching the pills so hard in my hand, the

color coating on one stains my skin. Opening my
palm, I pick them off my skin and set them on the
vanity. I have no intention of actually swallowing
them.

“Rookies,” Ashlyn says. “Trust me, you want to

take those. Actually, have one of these, too. You’ll
thank me later.”

She adds a capsule to my two little circles and

hands me a bottle of water. Still staring, she places
a different combination of pills on her tongue and

waits for me to do the same. My hands shake when
I pick them up, and then I follow her lead and
swallow mine just as she swallows her. I have no
idea what I just ingested.

Crystal returns with my outfit just as the silver

tray bypasses her chair. She doesn’t take any of the
pills, and that makes me panic. I shouldn’t have
listened to Ashlyn or let her pressure me. Since
when have I cared about fitting in? I’m always the
misfit, the oddball out, but for some reason,
blending in here is even more important to me.
Because, if these girls believe I’m Ariel, then the
customers will, too.

By the time I get the costume on, my head’s

foggy, and my vision is blurry. I can barely get my
foot in the boots without falling over. Crystal
mistakes the high for nerves and sits me back
down.

“You can do this,” she tells me. “I’ll be on the

other side of the curtain the entire time. And Ace
won’t be far.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Never once did

I consider that Ace would be watching me take my
clothes off. It’s bad enough that the rest of the bar
will see, but him? That makes me feel dirtier than
all the others combined.

Girl after girl, they file through the dressing

room, onto the stage, and then back again. Some go
more than one time, and others spend most of their

time in the back room instead. Handfuls of cash get
stuffed into purses and then locked up beneath their
vanities. The drugs that got them started turn into
drinks and then more pills.

Ashlyn sets two shots in front of me and says,

“Drink up.”

Ten minutes later, she brings two more. My

turn’s coming soon, and I don’t question it. My
heart’s racing, and my mind is going a million miles
an hour, but I tell myself that, if I drink enough and
swallow one more pill, I’ll be too numb to feel
anything at all. Regret won’t even exist.

“I need some air,” I say to whoever hears me as

I slide off my stool, praying my boots hit the floor
and I stay upright.

My forehead’s covered in sweat, yet my teeth

are chattering. I’m on fire on the inside and
freezing on the outside.

I know the way to the back door, yet somehow,

I take a wrong turn and end up in the back room.
The black lights mess with my head even more, and
the disco ball makes it hard for me to focus on
anything but the trippy lights swirling across faces.

Hands grip my waist and pull me back against a

hard body.

“This one’s mine,” the gruff voice says.
I try to pry his hands off my body. Crystal’s

words run through my mind. If you let one touch
you, they’ll all expect the same. But I haven’t even

gone on yet, and I’m afraid that, if I make this guy
mad, they’ll laugh me off the stage.

Out of nowhere, Crystal appears, and she sees

the panic on my face. She steps between me and
the guy whom I can’t see, and then his hands are
off me and on her.

“Get out of here!” she yells.
And I listen.
One door leads to another hallway, and then I

recognize the kitchen. The fluorescent lights almost
knock me on my ass, they’re so bright. Latching on
to the counter, I use it as a guide until I’m near the
fryers and then steps away from the back door.

It opens, and Jasper steps through. The tears

start to fall, and I throw my arms around his neck.
I’m so glad to see him. Little pieces of red hair
cling to his white shirt, and I remember that I’m not
Winnie right now. I’m still Ariel, and he doesn’t
recognize me. If he did, he’d be so ashamed.

I hang my head and try to hide behind my hair

like I always do.

“Are you okay?” he asks.
My voice would give me away, so I nod.
His glances at my outfit, and I can feel the

second his eyes connect with the little bit of bare
skin between the top of my jean skirt and the crop
top. It’s the one area of my body I’m still not used
to, the spot where I’m most self-conscious.

I’m not the only one who’s still not used to that

spot because the second he sees it, his eyes grow
wide, and he does a double take of my face. He
tries so hard not to make the connection, but once
he gets past the lashes and the bright red lips that
match my hair, he sees it for himself. My scar, all
jagged and ugly and still healing from surgery. I’m
the only girl here who has been shot and has that
kind of reminder plastered on her body. I should
have had Crystal cover it up with some makeup.

“Winnie?” he says in shock. “Please tell me I’m

seeing things.”

I’m still in denial, so I shake my head, avoiding

speaking altogether. My voice is the only thing left
he hasn’t deciphered.

“What the fuck are you doing, dressed like

that?”

He grabs my arm so hard, I yelp in pain, and

then I’m dragged down the hallway toward Ace’s
office.

“Let go of me,” I tell him.
Any doubt he had disappears, and his fingers dig

into my skin even harder. His strength is no match
for my limbs made of jelly. I’m too high and drunk
to put up any real fight.

Crystal must have gone looking for me after the

incident in the back room because she closes Ace’s
door, kicks Jasper right in the crotch, and frees me.
Jasper falls to the floor in a heap. I mean to ask him
if he’s okay, but Crystal jerks me back toward the

dressing room and gives me a look, like I should
know better than to wander around the place on my
own, especially dressed like this.

“You’ll learn to stay where it’s safe, Ariel.”
My two worlds just collided, and I have no idea

how to make it right with Jasper. He’s blowing up
my phone with texts when I check it, begging me to
respond. I can’t. I don’t know what to say. He’s
used to Winnie, but tonight, I’m Ariel. And she has
a job to do.

Instead of answering Jasper, I call Ace in his

office and tell him to get his brother under control.
I don’t wait for him to ask me questions. He knows
what happened and probably figured it’d happen at
some point tonight. Ace won’t let him ruin this for
me.

After I hang up, I might be a little bit proud of

myself. Winnie would have caved to Jasper and let
him manhandle her until she backed down and gave
up the fight. But Ariel doesn’t do that. She’s
fearless.

I look at my reflection in the mirror, and I hate it

less. Ariel’s not afraid of her own shadow. She’s
everything I’m not, and I think I want to be her for
a little while longer.

Thirty-One

Jasper

Ace has me backed against the wall, and his hand’s
around my throat. “Calm the fuck down,” he tells
me.

I can’t stop trying to punch his face in. Only one

fist connected before one of the bouncers pulled
me off him and set me in a chair. If he thought I
was going to stay there, he’s lost his damn mind.

“How could you?” I ask him. “She’s the only

person I care about, and you’re destroying her.”

“This was her idea, Jasper. I didn’t force her to

put any of that shit on. And whatever she does on
that stage tonight is her choice.”

“She’s underage, Ace. I could call the cops right

now and shut the whole place down.”

He squeezes harder, and I can barely get a

breath in. I’m turning red and purple and every
color of the rainbow to match my eye.

“If you pick up that phone, you’ll go down, too.

You’re underage, Jasper. Do you think sending us
all to jail will make Winnie want you more?”

I have to do something. I can’t let her do this.

Winnie’s too good for a job like that. She hates
everything Tess represented, and now, she’s in a
bunch of thick makeup with a rat’s nest on her
head. For what? To prove to Ace that she can do it?

“You can’t let her do it,” I beg. “It’ll destroy

her. She’s been through enough, Ace.”

My brother doesn’t disagree. He knows she’s

gone through more than her fair share of trauma
and pain. But when does it end? Eventually, there
has to be a limit. One person can handle only so
much before they snap and break and can’t be put
back together. Winnie’s beyond the point of no
return, and if he lets her do this, it’ll only get worse.

I try another approach because my brother hates

when the girls get fucked up. Once they get sloppy,
it’s harder to keep them out of trouble.

“She’s high and drunk.”
“I told her I’d look out for her. I have Crystal,

the nicest dancer here, watching her. If she were in
trouble, I’d know. I mean, she did knock you on
your ass.”

I’m not stupid. Maybe Crystal was in the right

place at the right time a few minutes ago, but if
Crystal wants to make money tonight, she can’t
watch Winnie the entire time.

“Let go of me.”
“Are you going to calm down and leave Winnie

alone?”

“Yes,” I tell him.
“If you get near her or do anything stupid, you’ll

regret it,” he warns.

My brother has some connections. None of

them are as powerful as Trey’s. That’s when it hits
me, and I give up the fight with my brother. I’ve
done all I can to get through to him, but someone
else can shut this down without the cops getting
involved. And that someone punched me in the
face and screwed up my arm.

“Fine, I’ll back off.”
Ace is hesitant to let go of me, so I push a little

deeper to get him to believe me.

“Lydia needs her dad. I don’t want you in jail.”
Mentioning his daughter works, and he lets go of

me. “Thank you. Now, either go home or go back
to work.”

I choose work, but first, I dart into the hallway

and pull out my phone. A call to Trey goes
unanswered, which doesn’t surprise me. He hates
me and wants nothing to do with me, even after all
I did for him while Winnie was in the hospital. But
he can’t deny the text I’m about to send.

Jasper: Winnie’s in trouble.

Seconds later, he responds. I knew he wouldn’t

ignore me if I mentioned Winnie.

Trey: What happened?

One mention of the bar, and he’ll stop what he’s

doing and get here. Hopefully in time to stop
Winnie from making a huge mistake.

Jasper: She’s about to go in the pit
with the vipers.

Any regular at The Whip understands what that

means.

Trey doesn’t respond.

Thirty-Two

Trey

Jasper: She’s about to go in the pit
with the vipers.

I drove today because the sky looked gray as hell,
and I told Winnie I’d stop riding my motorcycle in
the rain. She has enough to worry about, and I
figured, if she found out I had taken the bike, she’d
get upset. Right now, I wish I were on it. If I were, I
could make it across town in half the time it’ll take
in this piece-of-shit car.

I’ve checked my phone a hundred times today,

and there wasn’t a single word from her. I stopped
myself each time I tried to call her because she’d
asked for space and time, so that was what I was
giving her. I wanted to show her that I did trust her
and that I knew she could take care of herself.

But I should have known better.

Winnie doesn’t like being alone, and when she

is, she usually ends up in one of the darkest places
in her mind. She fights the nightmares and the
memories, but when they strike, she can’t always
climb back out of the agony. For her to end up at
The Whip, I can’t even imagine what’s going on in
that gorgeous head of hers. She hates that place.
She despises everything it represents. That’s why I
can’t figure out what possessed her to go there.

Jasper has to be wrong. There’s no way Winnie

would dance. She’s not like that. She doesn’t show
off in tight pants or revealing tops. Not once have I
ever seen her use her body to get attention, and she
has killer curves in all the right places. I guarantee
all those little punks she goes to school with notice.
But that’s what I love about Winnie; she demands
as much respect as she gives. She’d rather drown in
an oversize T-shirt than stand out in something
sexy.

Until tonight.
Big raindrops fall from the sky and pound

against the windshield. I count each splat against
the glass, anything to keep from picturing some
asshole touching Winnie in the back room of The
Whip. I was in there once, trying to keep Mick
away from Tess when she was on a bender and
needed to make some fast cash. I ended up
dragging him out, and she stayed. He was a fucking
mess, and I can’t blame him. You can’t unsee what

we saw that night.

Winnie wouldn’t last five seconds back there.

She’s too pure, too innocent, and that’s exactly why
they’d want her.

Fuck.
She’d make a fortune in no time.
As I drive under the overpass, I ride the bumper

in front of me. For the briefest of seconds, the rain
stops, and it’s like life pauses. Suddenly, it’s a
typical night. We’re a regular couple, and Winnie
isn’t in trouble.

The peaceful silence is so rare, it chokes me,

and I have to grip the wheel with two hands to stay
between the lines.

When I come out on the other side, the rain’s

twice as loud. The wipers make an obnoxious
screeching sound because there’s not enough
wetness on the glass. It’s sensory overload, and I
can’t get my eyes, brain, and body to work together
anymore. They’re all doing different jobs, and I
need to get out of the car before I wreck it. A line
of taillights completely stops me, and I use the
shoulder to bypass the stopped traffic and then take
the ramp for the next exit.

Wait for me, Winn.
Checking my phone, I take it as a good sign that

Jasper hasn’t texted me again. But maybe it’s
already over, and I’m too late. It wouldn’t be the
first time I’ve let her down. I wasn’t there when she

got shot, and I had to drive away before I knew
whether she’d live or die. I don’t deserve Winnie. I
really don’t.

But life’s so damn unfair, and if I could do it all

over again, I would—with a completely new set of
rules and priorities. Because here I am, working a
job I hate, biding my time until Winnie’s done with
school, and I’m destroying her in the process.

She’s so desperate for our freedom, she ran

away for a better life even though the one she had
with Cindy was better than she’d had in years.
Winnie hasn’t had that kind of support and care
since before her dad overdosed.

I tried to make sure she was safe and give her

the best I could, but I’m not stupid. I probably only
made it worse for her. If I wasn’t so selfish, I’d
have gotten her into a home a long time ago. But I
was only thinking of how fucked up that would
make me. I’d rather she stayed in the trailer with
me across the street than pull her out entirely. The
truth is, I didn’t want Winnie to leave because I
needed her.

Now, she’s making the biggest mistake of her

life…because of me.

Thirty-Three

Winnie

I close my eyes, and the leftover little flashes of
light explode behind my eyelids. I’m dreaming. I
have to be. When I wake up, I’ll be in Trey’s bed
with the covers pulled up to my chin. This floating
feeling will disappear, and I’ll be thankful this night
wasn’t real.

Only that’s not what happens when my eyes

open. I’m still in the dressing room, exactly where I
was in the dream.

Crystal isn’t a figment of my imagination. I see

her plain as day as she sneaks out of the back room
with a smile on her face.

“Let me guess, the anticipation’s getting the best

of you?” she asks.

My grip on the vanity is so strong, my knuckles

turn white. I don’t tell her that I drank too much or
that I swallowed some pills. And I leave out the

fact that I could throw up at any moment because
of Jasper. He knows I’m about to take my clothes
off, and that means I’m a whore. The rumor
floating around school isn’t a rumor anymore. It’s
the truth.

Confidence. I can do anything if I pretend.
Letting go of the vanity, I pretend I belong here

and that my head doesn’t weigh a thousand pounds.
The thumping against my skull is normal, and in this
moment, I decide to treat the rest of the night like a
TV show. I’m an actress playing a part, and even
though my lines are all silent, I follow the script and
take the direction Crystal gave me.

“Are you ready, Ariel?”
“I have to pee,” I tell her.
She laughs and tells me, “Hurry up!”
I don’t really have to pee. I just need some more

liquid courage before I do this.

You’d think, in a bar, there’d be bottles of liquor

sitting all around the dressing room. That’s not the
case. But the silver tray is still on Ashlyn’s chair, so
I look around to see if anyone’s paying attention.
They’re not.

I don’t know if the pills belong to her or if

they’re just a necessity supplied by The Whip, but I
grab two more. They’re different colors than the
ones I took before, and they go down easy. My
stomach growls, and I guzzle some more water to
shut it up. I should have eaten something today, but

I’ve been too nervous and too busy to think about
food.

As soon as the song before mine ends, I find the

blurry mark on the floor and stand on it like Crystal
told me to do. She said something about posing, so I
try to lift my arms above my head and let my top
ride further up my ribs. I’m angled so that my scar
is toward the curtain and not in the spotlight.

Ace’s booming voice ricochets through my

body. He’s holding the microphone so close to his
face, I can hear the spit in his mouth. I’m so
focused on that, I don’t pay attention to what he’s
saying about me. All I hear is, “Ariel,” a bunch of
hollering, and then the music starts, and Ace’s
voice fades away.

The curtain opens, and I forget how to breathe.

The lights make me feel like I’m on fire, and my
chest tightens so painfully, I drop my arms and
blink a couple of times until the pain goes away.

“Move, Ariel,” Crystal encourages from behind

me.

She’s still there, watching me, like she promised.

I want to make her proud. I need Ace to see this
wasn’t a mistake. Yet I can’t move.

Paralyzed by fear and this pain in my chest, I try

to block out the catcalls and whistles and listen to
what Crystal’s saying.

Take notes from the director, Winnie. This is a

game, remember? A script full of sexy movements

to a song.

Bending down, I slide my hands up my legs

from the top of my boots to my thighs. I tell myself
that it’s just me up here and to pretend like
nobody’s watching, but I can’t shake the feeling
that Jasper’s close, watching every move I make in
disgust. The whistles aren’t from him. Neither are
the dollar bills that land by my toes.

Stupidly, I turn my head and look at the front

row. The faces morph together, and one has five
eyes instead of two. The guy next to him reaches
for me with two sets of arms. He has so many
fingers, he’s practically an octopus. And then a
little monkey hops across the stage and into a beer
bottle on the table.

It’s not real, Winnie. Keep going.
At least I don’t think it is.
Whatever I took plays games with me through

the chorus, and the river of tears I’m holding back
loosens my fake lashes. While fixing them, my ring
gets caught on the wig. It shifts and then ends up in
a pile on the floor.

I stop moving. I’m back in the parking lot, next

to the bloodstain. I didn’t see the gun or hear the
shot this time. I’m afraid it already hit me, so I grab
my side, waiting for the warmth to run down my
hands.

“Look at me, Winn.”
That voice.

Those eyes.
His hands.
“Trey?”
“Can you see me? Look at me,” he says.
“No,” I whisper. I hear him, but I can’t focus.

All I know is that I don’t feel any blood, and the
puddle on the stage is gone. Cold droplets land on
my hot body, and my skin sizzles like I’ve been
burned. “Please don’t do that. It hurts.”

“I’m putting you in the car.”
Crystal must have followed because I vaguely

hear her voice in the distance, rattling off all kinds
of promises to Trey. He doesn’t acknowledge her
until I’m in the back seat, nestled against the
leather. It smells like his cologne, so I cuddle
against it.

“What’d you take, Winn?”
“I don’t know.”
“What was it?”
He punches the driver’s seat, and I flinch.
“Don’t hurt me,” I whisper.
He grabs my face and forces me away from the

comforting leather. A warm sigh from his mouth
tickles my nose. “You really think I’d hurt you?”

“You hurt me when you don’t let me stay.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says as he rubs

his thumb back and forth across my jaw. “I’d never
hit you, baby.”

I can’t stop the smile that sneaks out. He just

gave me so many butterflies, I should put my seat
belt on before I fly away.

“I like when you call me that.”
He lets go of me and slips out of the car.

Crystal’s hysterical, and I try to clap my hands a
couple of times, so they stop yelling at each other,
but my palms barely brush together.

“What are you doing?” he questions.
I turn my head toward his voice to answer, and

it was Trey’s voice I heard, but it’s Jax’s face.
Panic returns, and I try to get out of the seat, but
I’m already buckled in.

“Don’t hurt me,” I say over and over. “I won’t

tell Tess you touched me. I promise.”

“Winnie.”
It’s still Trey, but Jax is right there, too.
“I’ll never tell.”
We’re racing down the highway, and I have no

clue where I’m going to end up. If it were up to Jax,
I’d be in his trailer, locked in his bedroom. He’d
touch me like all those nights in my bedroom when
I pretended to be asleep.

My stomach cramps so bad, I scream and dig

my nails into the leather. The car being driven by
Trey’s voice comes to a jerking stop, and then my
door opens again. I wait for Jax to get me out, and
he carries me inside, just like I feared.

“Stay here on your side, and don’t move,” he

says.

“Trey.” I think I’m going to be sick, but I stay

still because he told me to.

“Don’t move, Winn. Promise me.”
I couldn’t get up if I tried. My legs are heavy,

and I ache all over. “I promise.”

His cologne disappears, and then I’m all alone.

The shaking starts after that, and no matter how
hard I try to keep still, I can’t make it stop.

“Trey,” I cry. “Come back.”
The light burns out, and my world is pitch-black.

I’ve never been more afraid, not even from the
bullet or the blood.

Thirty-Four

Jasper

Normally, when I cross paths with Trey, I’m either
jealous or afraid he’ll pull a gun and end my life.
He’s scary as hell when he wants to be, yet Winnie
looks at him like he’s this gentle giant who can do
no wrong.

I don’t totally understand their bond, and I don’t

pretend to. She knows how I feel about their
situation and that I want her for myself. Still, I can’t
deny the insane attraction they have to one another.
For whatever reason, it’s stronger that anything I
can give her.

When she looks at me, I think we have

something worth fighting for. Until I see her look at
him and discover all the missing pieces that we
don’t have. They shine in her eyes and practically
rip out of her chest. Maybe, with time, we could
have that, too, but for now, seeing it just stings too

damn bad and rips me right down the middle.

My head tells me they’ll never work. If Trey

didn’t exist, I really think she’d be with me. We
could be the perfect couple. It’s just never been the
right time. But two souls don’t get as close as
we’ve gotten in such a short amount of time for no
reason. I met her because she needs me. She let me
in because I’m good for her, and that’s why I can’t
give up on us.

I knew he’d show up at The Whip when I

texted, and I followed them the whole way to the
trailer. He can get as mad as he wants for me being
on his property. After the last time he found me
here, he made it pretty clear I wasn’t ever welcome
back. As long as Winnie’s inside though, I won’t be
far away. She’s not safe here, and now that Jax is
living across the street again, it’s even worse.

Tess is still locked up, but they gave Jax bail

because he wasn’t the one who shot the gun. The
thing wasn’t even in his name. So, they couldn’t tie
the weapon to him in order to keep him behind
bars. He’s free, and I’m scared he’ll get to Winnie
if she’s here, hiding out.

I’m about two houses down when Trey storms

down the steps and across the street to Jax’s trailer.
I stand back for a minute until he’s banging on the
door, and then I sprint as fast as I can into his
trailer. It’s a stupid move. He could have anyone
inside, watching over Winnie, but I take my

chances because nobody but those two ever come
in and out of here.

She’s lying on the couch, alone, and I press my

hand against her chest to make sure she’s breathing.
Her face is still covered in a ton of makeup, and she
looks ten years older than she did the last time I
saw her. I’m looking at Winnie, yet all I see is her
alter ego, Ariel. I don’t know who put that awful
wig on her head or thought she needed one in the
first place. She’s perfect the way she is.

“Winnie,” I say as I shake her shoulder a little,

“wake up. I don’t have much time.”

If I’m still here when Trey gets back, he’ll give

me a matching set of black eyes. That doesn’t stop
me from pressing my lips to Winnie’s forehead.
She’s on fire and trembling at the same time.

There’s no telling what they gave her. She’s not

the kind of girl to dress in a disguise and get
onstage without a lot of help. Knowing her, she did
whatever they said, and now, she’s passed out. Ace
had security on me, and there was nothing I could
do to get to her. He was too afraid I’d call the cops
and ruin his big payday.

I shut him down the only way I knew how—by

calling Trey. Winnie’s clothes stayed on, and maybe
she did get onstage, but nothing happened that
would make her hate herself in the morning.
Because I know her. Once the high wears off, she’ll
take one look in the mirror and see the damage

instead of the good person beneath all the makeup.

I’m afraid she’ll cut or do worse, so I pull the

boots off her feet and cover her with a blanket. She
groans a little. Then, her neck jerks, and she’s
throwing up. I sit her up, so she doesn’t choke
herself to death, and that’s when I hear the yelling.

A glance over my shoulder, and Trey has Jax in

a headlock. He’s punching him over and over, and
then there’s a second guy on Trey’s back, trying to
pull him off. Trey takes some shots in the back of
his head and stumbles forward, losing his grip on
Jax. It’s two against one, and I don’t know what to
do. I can’t leave Winnie, and I’m not about to get
myself killed either.

I do the only thing I can think of, and I dial 911.

The dispatcher keeps me on the phone until sirens
are wailing down the street. They’re annoying
enough that Winnie’s eyelids flicker open, and then
she heaves again all over the couch. The little bit of
life she showed disappears, and then she’s out cold
again.

An ambulance pulls in behind the cruisers and

then a second into Trey’s driveway, and I can’t see
across the street anymore.

“Trey,” Winnie mumbles.
“It’s me, Jasper,” I tell her. “Help’s here. You’re

going to be okay.”

“Trey.”
I bite my lip to keep the anger inside.

Then, one of the medics pulls me off the couch

and into the kitchen. He asks me all kinds of
questions I don’t have answers to. I wasn’t in the
dressing room. I can’t tell him what she took or
how much. All I can say is that this isn’t my house
or hers and that I love her.

I love her enough to get into the back of the

ambulance and drive away with her while Trey’s on
the ground with his arms behind his back and a
bloodstain on his shirt. He cusses at the ambulance
and fights as hard as he can to get out of the hold
they have on him.

Trey’s getting cuffed.
Winnie’s on her way to the hospital—again.
And history repeats itself as I sit nervously on

the seat next to Winnie with another prayer on
repeat in my head. She’ll make it through this. She
always does. I just don’t know what she’ll be like
once she wakes up, especially if Trey’s not there.

Thirty-Five

Winnie

Six Months Later

They say, time heals all wounds. Or at least that’s
what I’ve been told in every one of my counseling
sessions.

After the shooting, they force-fed me so much

hope along with my hospital food that I honestly
believed it was possible. Eventually, I’d forget the
blood and the searing pain from the bullet. If I were
lucky, the memories of Tess would even lessen. But
I knew the damage that was done to my brain
wouldn’t be as easy to shed. I’d always walk
around with memories from my childhood of a
parent I was slowly forgetting and one I couldn’t
remember at all.

There’d come a day when Tess won an appeal

or was granted bail for good behavior even though

she’d never been known for that, and I’d have to
face the world with her back on the streets. I’d
thought all that would happen with Trey by my side
and that I’d survive whatever life threw at me
because of him.

What I hadn’t seen coming was a life without

him.

When I woke up in the hospital, my mouth was

so dry, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my
mouth. My head throbbed, and my eyes felt like
they were about to explode. Pressure and fullness
shook my heart, and I wasn’t sure if I was even
controlling it on my own anymore. There had to be
something inside me, a tube or a mechanical robot
or whatever they used pushing me through the
pain.

Then, I opened my eyes and saw the muted

lights and the popcorn tiles on the ceiling. I’d
counted those little dots hundreds of times when I
was recovering from surgery. I didn’t realize the
impact they had on my memory and recovery until
I found myself already at thirty and then nearing
the count of fifty, completely soothed by the
numbers.

“She’s awake,” I heard from somewhere in the

room.

The voice didn’t belong to anyone I knew. That

scared me. I didn’t like strangers almost as much

as I hated people touching me.

“Trey?” I asked, hoping he was close this time.
I didn’t want to go through months of hospital

rehabilitation without him again. Though the
chances of him safely staying with me were slim, I
still held on to that little bit of hope that it was
possible. I was a dreamer like that.

Then, I saw the kind eyes and gentle smile that

belonged to my friend. At least, I thought he was
still my friend. He’d done some unforgiveable
things, and I wasn’t sure if the kiss we’d shared
canceled them out or if I was still supposed to hate
him. I didn’t. I never would.

“Jasper.”
“I’m here,” he said. “Just rest.”
“What happened?”
I remembered The Whip and then standing in

the spotlight when the music came on. Everything
after that was a blur. Maybe that was a good thing
because I was sure I’d made a fool of myself.

“Did I do it?” I couldn’t even say the word strip

out loud. It made me feel too dirty.

He shook his head. “I called Trey, and he

pulled you off the stage in time.”

That scared me. Trey knew. He had seen me

dressed up like Ariel. That also meant I hadn’t kept
my word to Ace. I’d promised him I’d make him a
lot of money, and I’d choked.

“I’m in trouble with your brother, right? That’s

why you’re here?”

“No,” he whispered. “My brother can go fuck

himself. You shouldn’t have been there, Winnie.”

I had plans. Plans that took money, and dancing

was the answer. Fast cash meant freedom, and I
wanted it so bad, I could taste it.

“Can I see Trey now? He’s here, right?”
“He’s not here,” he told me.
I knew from the moment he’d said it that it

wasn’t like before. Trey hadn’t disappeared
because he had to; he was gone because he was
forced to stay away.

“Where is he?” I asked, so afraid of the

response I’d get.

He couldn’t be in trouble.
“The cops took him. They tried to get a

statement from you at the trailer, but you were still
unconscious. They’ll be back though.”

I didn’t want to talk to the cops. Trey didn’t do

anything wrong. He was good to me, better than
anyone had ever been, and I’d tell them that. I’d
show the police what a good man he was and how
he was the only family I had left. Whatever trouble
he was in, I’d clear his name and bring him back
to me. I had to. Because, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be
able to live with myself for ruining his life.

Cindy came in the room next and took my hand.

I pulled my fingers out of her grasp. I didn’t care
why she was there or what her intentions were.

There was no way I was going with her again.

“I brought Dray,” she told me. “He wanted to

apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” I asked her.
That was when I looked at Dray and finally saw

him for what he was. A liar. He had tears
streaming down his face and wiped at them with
his sleeve. It was soaked, so I figured he’d been
crying for a long time. I’d never seen a boy cry
before. I thought only girls did that.

Cindy urged Dray forward, and he took his

place next to my bed.

“It was me, Winnie. I sent the text, and I’m the

one who started the rumor. Jasper had nothing to
do with it.”

I figured Dray had only opened his mouth and

told Cindy the truth because I had gotten into
trouble and ended up in the hospital. If I had gone
on with life the way it was at Sunshine Place and
never run away, I was positive he’d have let Jasper
take the blame.

I wasn’t sure what hurt worse—Dray lying to

me or watching him break down in front of me. I
knew in that moment that he was just as sick as his
dad. All the hate he carried around, he used on
people like me, even if he didn’t mean to. Because,
if he made me hurt, then he’d hurt less. Cutting
was my defense mechanism, the tool I used to feel
human again. Humiliation and lies were Dray’s. I

know he didn’t like who he was or that he did mean
things to someone he cared about, but he didn’t
know how to stop doing it, either.

Guilt ate me alive, and I reached for Jasper. He

took my hand, and we linked our fingers together,
the way we had done so many times before. This
time, I didn’t fight the connection. I knew he was
there because he loved me, not because Trey had
told him to stay by my side.

Jasper hadn’t ruined what little was left of my

reputation, and he probably didn’t break those
windows at the trailer either. How could I have
thought he did it? Why was it so hard for me to
trust my only friend? He’d never done a single
thing wrong.

Still holding on to Jasper, I glanced at Dray

and said, “Please leave me alone. I don’t ever
want to see you again.”

Dray inhaled and then exhaled a shaky breath.

He was hurting, and I worried he’d leave and find
a new victim.

Cindy cleared her throat, and Dray said, “I’m

sorry you ran away and got hurt. I didn’t mean for
this to happen.”

It didn’t matter though. There was nothing I

could do to stop him. Dray was Dray. Alex was
Dray. And it confused the hell out of me.

“You can’t be two people,” I told him.
I knew that better than most. I’d tried to be both

Winnie and Ariel, and I’d almost died.

Dray nodded. He understood what I meant. The

guy he was at the home was nothing like the kid he
was when he walked the halls at school like a god.
Pieces of both were genuine, and maybe if he
meshed both personalities together, he’d be whole
again. But it wouldn’t be easy. I knew that, too.

That was why I told him, “Dray needs help, and

Alex needs to stop being fake. Let people see the
real you, whoever you are.”

Jasper squeezed my hand and gave me a little

half-smile. He liked when I stood up for myself,
and that little bit of pride that shone down on me, I
latched on to it. But Jasper wasn’t my lifeline this
time. He was my best friend and maybe even my
future.

Future. I finally liked the sound of that word.
Because, sometimes, we had to get knocked

down lower than we’d ever been in order to
appreciate the possibility of more. I had another
chance to pick and choose which piece of myself to
bring along with me, and then I’d leave the rest
behind. It wouldn’t be easy, but this time, I wanted
to rise higher than ever before.

When the room was clear and it was just me and

Jasper, he sat beside me in the bed and held me as
I sobbed against his chest. Reality was a bitch
sometimes, and it was hitting me hard. I wanted to
cut one last time, and then I wanted to scream.

And, when I was done with all that, I might even
want to take off again, running as far away as I
could get.

I wanted to live.
I wanted to die.
Mostly, I wanted to feel something other than

pain.

Jasper played with my hair, and I was relieved

when I saw the strands were dark brown and not
red.

“It’ll be okay, Winnie. I’m not going

anywhere.”

I wanted to believe him. I chose to trust him.

“I’m sorry I thought you’d sent the text.”

“Don’t be,” he told me. “We’re okay. That’s all

that matters.”

But I wasn’t okay. Not yet. And I couldn’t give

Jasper any kind of time frame of when I might be
okay again.

Those moments with Jasper changed me more

than the blood, the bullet, and the stage combined.
It was one single second of total honesty combined
with a million other truths, truths I wasn’t ready to
accept until then. And it was in those minutes that I
gained more perspective than I knew what to do
with. It hit me out of nowhere, and the life I had
known before was over.

I was forced to let go of my dreams with Trey. I

knew he wasn’t coming for me this time, and there

was nothing I could do to clear his name. We had
done so many things right and then messed them all
up just as fast. Rules existed for a reason.
Boundaries were in place to create an even playing
field and take away confusion. You couldn’t break
them and succeed. It just wasn’t possible.

But Trey’s charges went far beyond the lies the

world believed about me. We could have obeyed
every single law, and it wouldn’t have mattered.
Trey was good to me, but he wasn’t one of the good
guys. He sold drugs his entire life and worked for a
boss who put him in sketchy situations to make a
load of cash. Trey knew it was wrong and when the
money stopped meaning more than lives, he wanted
out. He wanted out for me and for us. But he was in
too deep and it was too late to run. The cops
wanted him. It was only a matter of time before
they got their guy.

If Jasper hadn’t made the call to the police,

Trey’s boss would have eventually tracked him
down. He knew too many secrets to walk away
without consequences. There was so much
information locked away in his brain, he could
bring down the entire operation with a single word.
He’d never do that, but as long as the possibility
was there, he’d never be a free man.

Trey was gone.
My favorite person was behind bars, and I

didn’t think he’d ever be set free. Not in this
lifetime anyway.

Never seeing Trey again turned the pain into

unwavering sadness. Despite how badly I wanted to
get better, depression was like standing underneath
a wave of water so high, you knew that, once it
captured you, you’d never survive it. And, if you
did, you’d never be the same. The weight of the
world swallowed me up, churned me beneath the
surface, and then spit me back out, completely
lifeless.

I’d never taken a breath without Trey in my life.
I didn’t want to.
I had to.
Normally, I’d cut to numb the pain of missing

Trey. The blade was the equivalent of a Band-Aid,
but I couldn’t do it anymore. If I wanted to get
better, I had to promise myself I’d never make
another cut.

The blades were replaced by a journal, and I

was told to write in it whenever the urge to cut
struck. For the first couple of days, the journal went
everywhere I did. I had trouble finding moments
when I didn’t think about razors. But, the more I
wrote, the more I realized that numbing my feelings
was harder than writing them.

Most of the words I write only make sense to

me, but that’s okay because they’re mine.

I carry a leather-bound book of guilt and denial.

“It’s not your fault, Winnie,” the counselors tell

me. Every. Single. Day.

But Trey was arrested because of me, so that

makes his sentence my fault. And that’s why I
almost killed myself.

I had to.
One last cut wasn’t enough of an apology to

Trey. I thought giving my life would make it right.

I told that story in therapy today. And I think it

almost sent me back to the beginning…

Thirty-Six

Winnie

Visiting hours ended, and Jasper was forced to
leave the hospital. He couldn’t sweet-talk the
nurses this time, and Trey hadn’t paid anyone off
to let him stay. I was on my own.

I waited until midnight, after the shift change,

and then I wandered into the hallway. The clothes I
wore from The Whip were still in a white plastic
bag in the closet. Nobody expected me to wear
them when I left, but they were still mine, so they
stayed.

Old habits died hard, and I dug out the boots. I

turned the right one over and saw the tiny blade
taped against the inside of the heel. I had taped it
there in case I panicked and needed to run. The
pressure had been eating me alive, and I had
known that, even if I couldn’t cut at The Whip, I’d
wanted the blade close. I’d needed that blade.

I pulled it off and didn’t even bother running it

under the faucet with some soap and water.

I was done with life. Once I was alone, the pain

came crashing down.

Jasper was home where he belonged, and by the

time he got word, I’d be gone. That was how I
wanted it. I wanted to die alone so that nobody
would ever live with the fear and agony like I did.
Seeing my dad with that syringe hanging from his
arm was ingrained in my brain. You couldn’t ever
forget seeing something like that, and I knew this
was for the best. When Jasper saw me again, I’d be
tucked inside a coffin or maybe obliterated in an
urn. It didn’t much matter what happened to my
body. I didn’t have parents who would visit me or a
mantel for my ashes to sit.

Opening the bathroom door, I went inside and

closed it behind me. The shower stall was small,
but I pulled the curtain back and stood inside. My
teeth didn’t chatter, my arms didn’t tense up, and
all the usual anxiety disappeared. That was how I
knew it was time. I’d fought too hard for too long,
and this was my chance to take a break. I was
ready for heaven to swoop me up and carry me
home. If I couldn’t have Trey, I wanted to see my
dad.

The first cut I made quickly because I wasn’t

sure how fast it would bleed out. The second arm, I
took my time and savored the burn and then the

ache. My wrists were sliced open, and I closed my
eyes and waited for the blood to pool in the drain.

I wasn’t going to go to another foster home.
There wouldn’t be college or a boutique of my

own.

My dreams were nothing more than excuses.

Excuses that kept me from ending it all.

Winnie Dawes wasn’t meant for more. She was

just trailer trash, a girl from the wrong side of the
tracks, who was meant to follow in her parent’s
footsteps.

But life works in mysterious ways, and I didn’t

see the next chapter coming.

Nobody in my shoes would have.

I rested my cheek against the cool tiles, and

then the bathroom door opened. The scream was so
shrill, I was sure it’d keep any dying girl alive a
little while longer. She was ruining my moment of
peace.

“The angels are coming now,” I told her.

“Dad’s close.”

Cindy knelt down in front of me and wrapped

white towels around my wrists. “I knew better than
to leave,” she said. “I knew you were too
levelheaded, too fast. It didn’t make sense after all
you’d been through.”

I’d known her for only a couple of weeks. She

didn’t know a damn thing about me or what my
moods were like.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.
The tears poured down her face, and her words

were muffled with the sobbing again “I had papers
in place with the social worker to adopt you. I
didn’t want you turning eighteen, aging out, and
then running. I wanted more for you, Winnie. And,
I know you and Dray aren’t on good terms, but I
still had to try.”

The words slammed into me so hard, I thought

God had run me over with a truck instead of
picking me up with his wings. She couldn’t be
serious. Nobody besides my father had ever
wanted me, not even my own mother.

“I don’t believe you. You just said that because

I’m about to die.”

She screamed again for help and pressed

harder on the towels around my wrists. When I
looked down at her arms, the stack of shimmery
bracelets she usually wore was gone. Now, I knew
why she wore them.

“You cut,” I said.
It wasn’t a question. The scars were there. She’d

done this, too.

“Yes,” she told me.
There wasn’t any time to say why or when

because a couple of nurses carried me out of the
shower, and then I was rushed down a long

hallway. I was moving too fast to count the
popcorn tiles, and that bothered me until the
bright light came. It shone overhead, and I smiled
when I saw it.

I had done it.
It was finally over.

Six months ago, Winnie Dawes died. She

accepted the light and was welcomed home. But
just because you’re accepted into heaven doesn’t
mean you get to stay.

Surgery had been touch and go, and until

they’d replaced all the blood I’d lost, they’d
thought I might not make it—or so I was told.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Cindy’s tears

again. She was there with Jasper, and they were
each holding a hand.

I tried to lift my arms and touch my face to see

if I was really still breathing, but I couldn’t move.
They let go of me and I wiggled my fingers. I felt
the burn beneath the bandages and the tugging on
the stitches.

“Untie me,” I begged.
Cindy cried harder. “We can’t, sweetheart. Not

until you’re better.”

Better.

I can’t think of a more opinioned word.

That’s the funny thing about life. Better is an

observation. One person’s definition could greatly
differ from the next guy. It’s all subjective—a
feeling that can only be felt by someone who wants
to get well.

It took me weeks and weeks to even open my

mouth in a therapy session. When I did speak, it
was all lies, so I could get discharged faster. The
therapists saw right through me, and none of my
methods worked. They’d seen it all. What I was
doing was nothing new. That was when I came full
circle and threatened to kill myself all over again.

I got the attention of everyone but for all the

wrong reasons. I stayed tied to my bed, locked
inside a little room like I was in jail, while cameras
watched me every hour of every day. I’d lived most
of my life alone, and I was still living that way. The
eyes watching might as well have belonged to Jax.
It felt just as intrusive.

Cindy came to see me every day, and I refused

to speak to her. Jasper showed up during my tiny
window of visitation, and I pushed him away, too.

I missed Trey. I needed him. He was the only

one who could make it better, and that killed Jasper
more than seeing me locked up. He withdrew just
as I had, and I thought I’d lose him forever.

But soul mates don’t disappear. They go through

hard times with each other, feeling every ounce of
each other’s pain, and they pray. Jasper prayed for

me when I didn’t want him to. He talked to a god I
wasn’t sure existed, and he kept coming back.

We argued. I cried.
Cindy stuck her nose where it didn’t belong to

try to help.

And then, one day, the medication and the pain

decided to work together. We got along, and my
body gave up fighting against them and wanted to
be near them.

Trey was gone. He’s in prison and I’m not

supposed to see him. My therapists don’t think it’s
a good idea. The wounds are too fresh and the pain
still too real.

But Cindy and Jasper are here. They’ve never

left my side and I owed it to them to follow the
rules and wait it out. When the time came, I’d go to
Trey and we’d talk. When I was ready.

I was in recovery for me. Not to get well enough

to run back to him.

It took me six long months full of good days and

bad days to realize that and to stop hating myself.
The scars that used to ease my pain and make me
feel whole again don’t do that anymore.
Somewhere along the way, my wrists turned into
angry reminders of all my failures, and I wanted the
scars to disappear.

I’m still learning how to love myself. I’m still

working on acceptance. And that’s okay.

I’m an eighteen-year-old girl who’s been to

heaven. That’s not something everyone can say,
and I don’t say it with shame anymore. It’s my
truth.

If I’ve learned anything on this crazy journey

called life, it’s that heaven isn’t a destination. It’s a
feeling of contentment that sets your soul free.

Winnie Dawes died six months ago.
And, now, she’s more determined than ever to

live—to live for tomorrow and all the days after
that. She doesn’t need a boy, a man, a mother, or a
father to make her whole. She fills her missing
pieces with dreams.

And, for the first time in her life, she’s alive.

She jumped from the edge of heaven and into
forever.

Acknowledgments

Jovana Shirley, you amaze me. Working with you
has given me the strength and confidence I need to
tell each story. Thank you for your excitement for
this book and for making it the best it can be. I am
so lucky to have you on my team. I cherish your
creative energy.

Marisa-Rose Wesley, you nailed my vision for this
cover, even when you had so much going on.
Thank you for capturing Winnie and the feel of this
story. I love working with you.

Judy Zweifel, as always, you blew through the book
and picked out every detail that needed attention.
Thank you for your love of the little things and for
making my work shine.

Emily Smith, I’m so glad Nina connected us. Thank
you for your time, for all of your energy, and for
holding my hand when I needed it. I love tackling
releases with you! This is only the beginning.

Shari Ryan, thank you for encouraging me to write
the story in my heart.

A huge thank you to my reader group—Gia Riley’s
Books. You guys are rock stars, and I’m so grateful
for you.

My beta crew—Tina Bell, Helene Cuji, Julie
Gustafson-Monk, Sue Maturo, Katie Monson, and
Kaitie Reister—You are my biggest cheerleaders
and support system. Writing is more fun with you
by my side. Thank you will never be enough.

Bloggers, I appreciate all of your support. Your
promotion,

likes,

tweets,

posts—it

means

everything to me. I couldn’t do this without you.
No matter how big or small you are, your voice
matters! Always remember that.

Lastly, a massive thanks goes to every reader.
Thank you for buying my books, for reading my
words, and for sharing this journey with me. You
make my dreams come true.

About the Author

Gia Riley has been in love with writing romance
since high school when she took her very first
creative writing class. From the small but mighty
state of Delaware, she’s a country girl at heart,
traveling back to her roots in Pennsylvania as often
as she can.

She’d rather pick truth than dare, bake than cook,
and will always choose coffee over tea.

Just like life, her stories always have a mixture of
heart and humor.

Want to get in touch? Visit Gia at…

Click

to sign up for her newsletter.

Would you like to join Gia’s Facebook group, Gia
Riley’s Books? Team members qualify for exclusive
giveaways and are the first to receive sneak peeks
of the projects she’s currently working on. Click

HERE

to join.

OTHER BOOKS BY GIA

Lighter

Weightless

In Pieces

Rock the Boat

Rock the City

Stay Awhile

I’ll Make You Mine

Document Outline

The Edge of Heaven
Contents
Oprah Winfrey
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other Books by Gia

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The Edge of Heaven (Broken Wing Gia Riley

Document Outline