She heard Javi set down his mug. Could feel his eyes on her back. “Paycheck? What happened to your scholarship? I thought the university was paying for everything.”
It was too late to stuff the cat back in the bag. Javi and Ramón didn’t keep secrets from each other, which meant the conversation she’d been putting off with her cousin was sure to happen the minute he got home. “There is no scholarship. Not anymore,” she said bitterly.
Javi leaned on the counter beside her, studying her face. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Does Ramón know?”
“No, and neither does my mother, so do me a favor and keep your big mouth shut.”
“Are you okay?” She knew that tone. Knew that she could scream and holler and spew out horrible things to him in a flash of hot temper, and his voice would only get softer. Because he knew she was not okay. She was scrubbing toilets in a bank. She was hiding from the police. She was sleeping on her cousin’s couch. She was far, far from okay. “V, look at me.” He took the sponge from her and tossed it in the sink. He dipped his head low, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “What happened?”
Her throat closed around the words. She turned away so she wouldn’t start crying. “I dropped out of school.”
Whatever he had expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. “Why?” His jaw tensed when she didn’t answer. “I fucking knew it,” he said through his teeth. “Was it him? That guy from the garage the other night?” He started pacing, raking his damp hair back from his face like it might help him think. “You know you don’t have to go through this alone, right? Ramón and I… we’ll help. Whatever you decide to do, V… whatever you need, we’ll be there for all of it. Fuck that asshole! I should have broken both of his legs while I had the—”
“Jesus, you too? I’m not pregnant, Javi! I didn’t come here because of some stupid boy!” If she was going to throw away her future for a boy, it would have happened three years ago.
Javi sagged, putting a hand to his chest like he could finally breathe. “Then why’d you quit school? Ramón said you were doing really well. That you joined some sorority and you were really happy.”
“I just did, okay?” Shehadbeen really happy, right up until she wasn’t.
“Okay,” he said quietly. For a long moment, neither one of them spoke. “So… you’re staying?”
“Only until I can find my own place. Then you can have your couch back.”
“It’s yours, for as long as you need it.”
She nodded, once. She wasn’t sure what was harder: being around Javi when he was on her last nerve or when he was being sweet.
“Do you need anything else?”
She shot him a look.
“I didn’t mean it like that, V. I just meant, I can spot you a few hundred, if it’ll help. You can pay me back when you’re on your feet.”
“I don’t need your money,” she said curtly. He held up his hands in surrender, the perfect picture of bad boy innocence. The hotheaded rebel who’d shown her how to throw a punch, had taught her how to drive before she legally could, and had gratefully and thoroughly stripped her of her virginity when she’d offered it was the same boy who’d give her the shirt off his back, no questions asked. Another thought occurred to her. She might not need Javi’s money, but she did need something else.
Chapter 8
Javi killed the engine of the white panel van he’d borrowed from the garage because someone (she wasn’t saying she had any idea who) had let all the air out of the tires on Javi’s Camaro. Vero was already out of her seat belt, eying the older-model station wagon parked beside them.
“Because you have a skill set and I have a need.”
“You couldn’t have needed something other than breaking and entering?”
“Do you want to help me or not?” She got out of the van and slammed the door without waiting for an answer.
Javi swore under his breath and followed her. “What exactly are we looking for?” he asked as she peeped in the car’s windows. They were in the small employee parking lot behind the community bank. The station wagon was parked up against the dumpster on one side, and Javi had pulled into the space on the other side, boxing it in. The van offered them a measure of privacy, and according to the clock on Vero’s phone, they had at least forty-five minutes until Helen’s lunch break started.
“It’s probably better if I don’t tell you. You know, plausible deniability.”
“I’m getting ready to break into some woman’s car. In broad daylight. Behind a bank, Veronica. If we get caught, I don’t think plausible deniability’s going to be an option on the table.”
“Then I’ll handle the breaking in parts, and we’ll tell them you were an unwilling accomplice. Now, how do I do this?”
“Vero—”
