Page 55 of You're so Bad

“You think Mrs. Ruiz would thank me for giving a petty thief the key to her crib?”

Her brow creases. “How’s that different from letting him break in whenever he wants?”

“I told him I’d let him in if he texts, but I guess I see your point.”

“What about giving him a job?” she says, leaning back against the sink. “Something to keep him out of trouble.”

I’ve thought of that—and gotten about as far as a brick wall. I could get the kid a new ID, I guess, but that seems like the nuclear option. Once you go that road, trying on names and personalities like they’re suits, it’s hard to go back to being a person. Or to remember who you were beneath all the layers you’ve put on. “He’s got no papers. He’s not eighteen.”

“He’s old enough to ask for emancipation.”

“Takes thirty days. He’ll be eighteen by then.”

“You looked up the timeline,” she says, something like approval in her voice.

“I did,” I concede.

“You could take him to your flip house,” she suggests. “Put him to work unofficially.”

I’d thought of it. I don’t want to bring my problems to Burke’s door, though, and besides…

“Burke’s parents are all about finding a way to get him into some shit. If they found out we had an underage runaway working with us, that’d be just the ticket. Besides, I don’t think he’s a bad kid, but he’s desperate. Desperate is dangerous.”

She surprises me by reaching out and taking my wrist. Her eyes are bright under the lights, and fuck, are thosetearsin them?

“You don’t think I understand,” she says. “But I do. My mom used to lock me out of the house for hours. She said it was character building, but it was because she didn’t want to have a kid around. After my parents moved us away from Asheville, I used to dream that I’d have to go live with Nana and Grandpa Frank. I ran away five times. One time, I took the Greyhound, and I got all the way to their house. I cried so hard I almost passed out when Grandpa Frank said I had to go home. Nana was crying too.”

Five times? No wonder Tiger’s got some claws.

Constance has told me a thing or two about Shauna’s folks, enough to have made me realize they weren’t gold-star parents, but I hadn’t realized it was this bad.

“And then it happened,” Shauna adds softly. “My dream came true. They died in that car wreck, and Ihadto go live with Nana and Grandpa Frank.”

Well, shit.

Her eyes are still shining with tears, but she wouldn’t thank me if I brought attention to them, which is just as well, because I have no clue how to stop someone from crying. I’m much better at making people cry in the first place. But suddenly I really wish I knew.

“You didn’t make it happen,” I offer, lifting a hand to touch her chin. It’s pointed like a fairy’s, and it’s such a stupid fucking thought that I can hardly believe it. Clearly a woman’s tears are enough to drive a man crazy.

“Obviously not,” she says with a huff. “I don’t have psychic powers, Leonard. But it sure felt like it was my fault.” She gives me a pointed look that reaches into my guts and twists. “Maybe the same way you blame yourself for Gidget.”

Guilt wraps around my chest. “Let’s not dip shit in sugar and call it candy.”

“Gross,” she says, her nose wrinkling.

“Exactly. What happened to her was my fault, and don’t try to tell yourself otherwise. I own it. Just like I’m gonna own this problem. The cops are looking for the kid.”

Her eyes narrow. “What do you know that I don’t?”

I lift my hands in the ‘I’m an innocent man’ gesture that’s probably only made by guilty people. “Not what you’re thinking.” Or at least I don’t think it is. “I’m pretty sure it’s the foster father who’s behind it. Reese with one S said this guy’s brother is a boy in blue.”

She swears under her breath, because this is obviously not good news, then says, “We can work around it. We have to.”

Something softens inside of me. I expected Tiger to want to go running for the cops, but she gets it. She actually gets it. That meanseverything.

“Let’s go talk to him,” I say with a nod.

We reach for the door at the same time, our hands overlapping, and a zip of heat shoots straight to my dick. Damn it. I hope she’ll still be in the mood for making bad decisions tomorrow night. One taste wasn’t enough.

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