I swallow. My throat still hurts. My voice feels like it belongs to someone else.
“I heard them,” I say.
“I know.”
“And your… brothers.”
“Yeah.”
I study him.
Broad shoulders. Worn shirt. That leather cut hanging open now. The patch on his chest.
He doesn’t look dangerous in a wild way. He looks dangerous in a controlled way.
That should scare me more.
It doesn’t.
It scares me a little.
It steadies me a little more.
He sits back on his heels. Gives me space.
“You want to tell me what happened?” he asks.
There’s no push in it. No impatience.
Just a question.
I stare at my hands under the blanket. They’re scraped and red and ugly.
“I was stupid,” I say.
His jaw tightens. “Start before that.”
Something in my chest cracks at that.
Before that.
Like I’m more than the worst choice I made.
“My roommate,” I say. “Tessa. I don’t really have anyone. No family. Not anymore. She knew that.”
He doesn’t interrupt.
“She told me about a job. Cleaning at a club. Cash. Easy. I needed money.”
“What club?”
“Red Hot Velvet.” My mouth twists. “Stupid name.”
His eyes sharpen at that. I see it. He files it away.
“She said it was just wiping tables. I believed her.”
My voice starts to shake and I hate it.
