Page 36 of Dirty (Chicago Underground 5)
“That night when he came for Daisy, I fought him. I punched him, and he went down, hitting his head on a table. There was blood everywhere. I thought I’d killed him.” He met my eyes, a little dark, a little rueful. “I was sure I had. Only years later I looked him up and found out he’d lived another six months before his liver gave out.”
“It was self-defense,” I said, stating the obvious, knowing it wouldn’t have mattered to a scared kid protecting his little sister.
He stood up and paced, as if unable to stay still. “We didn’t wait to see if they’d believe us or where they’d put us next. We ran. For a while it wasn’t too bad. I was motivated. I worked all day and all night instead of going to school. I made enough to buy food, and that was about it. I’d bring her library books to read, but she had all day to sit around in the abandoned house we were staying in. She was bored and restless, like any twelve-year-old girl would be day after day.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said, heart heavy. After all, I already knew the ending to this story.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, but I knew he didn’t believe it. “She just wanted to make friends. But the only other street kids around stole shit and did drugs. She got caught up in it. We argued all the time, but I wasn’t there. I was out working for us so much of the time, and then when I was home, I was exhausted.” Regret stained his words. “I didn’t have enough patience with her, nor did I try to see her side of things. I just yelled at her to stop seeing them.”
“A fifteen-year-old boy is not ready to parent a teenage girl. He’s not supposed to be ready to do that. That’s what parents are for.” Although it seemed like we’d both got the shaft in the parental department.
“Then one day, she disappeared. She had gone missing a couple of nights and come back in the morning. The first few times, I had looked everywhere and given her a bunch of shit when she came back. This time I was going to be tough. I was going to tell her she had to shape up, or I wouldn’t help her anymore. No more giving money to her so-called friends for drugs. When she came back, I was going to cut her off. Only she never came back.”
I hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head.
“I looked for her, of course. Beat the shit out of a few of her friends; they told me she’d started hooking. Didn’t get very far on my own. I got my GED and enrolled into the academy.”
“You’ve never stopped looking,” I said softly.
“I can’t,” he admitted. “Even when I tell myself I’m done, that I’ve moved on, I find myself pulling up Jane Doe records. I hadn’t even planned on asking about her last night. Or maybe I knew I would. I don’t know anymore. But the guy told me he’d been with Henri from the early days, and the timing was right. Next thing I know, I’m questioning him and risking the whole damn operation, risking your safety, on a lost cause.”
Frustration rolled off him in waves. Like a lion caught in a trap, he would pull and gnaw until he’d torn his paw off just to be free—maim himself to escape his demons.
“Of course,” I said. “Of course you should have.”
“I risked my cover. I put you in danger.” He vibrated with guilt.
It would tear him apart—guilt for his sister, for me. “I’m glad you asked about her. At least now you know for sure she was with Henri, right?”
“Yeah. I had suspected as much, but now I know for sure.” He pressed his lips to my temple. “You’re sweet.”
I laughed softly. “All I did was listen.”
“Always undervaluing yourself.”
“I assure you, my price is very high,” I said in a mocking voice. “Don’t assume that because I gave it to you for free that I’m cheap.”
“Hey.”
He turned me in his arms so that I faced him. When I wouldn’t look at him, he raised my chin. Solemn green eyes met mine.
“You honored me.”
My eyes burned; my throat tightened. I was seconds away from embarrassing myself. I kissed him, using my sexuality as a shield like I’d always done. He responded at once, taking the lead with his hand on the back of my neck, holding me open. His grip on me was implacable, inescapable, but his lips were infinitely gentle. He ran his tongue along my lips, soothing, calming, and it felt like gratitude. I hoped he did feel lighter, having shared his burden. I hoped he would slake any remaining tension with my body. All of it food for my ramshackle soul. To be wanted, needed—even adored. Men praised me, they used me, and so I found sustenance.
He deepened the kiss, grew rougher, more demanding.
“Come into the bedroom,” he said, both question and demand.
It didn’t matter. Anything, always. “Yes.”
Chapter Nineteen
We tumbled together, bare skin against abrasive ruffles, naked bodies to streaming sunlight. Playfully, I pulled away. He pounced, trapping me beneath his. I lay my cheek against the bed in surrender.
“Stay,” he said. His weight lifted, but I felt the light pressure of his hand on the small of my back.
I remained bent over the bed, with my feet touching the floor and my face turned into the sheets. Cool air brushed my backside, and I knew he was watching me. I had very few qualms about my body. My waist was slim, and the five pounds I’d gained in the past year went straight to my hips. My skin was waxed and shaved with careful precision, and I had a small blue vein running down my left thigh. I couldn’t shake the nervousness about what
