I sniff. “He’s looking but I’m not looking back.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Don’t shit where you eat,” Sonny says. “Or don’t get your honey where you make your money. Whatever version you like.”
“Either works,” I mutter. “I prefer the first.”
It gets the job done in simpler terms. I spare another look at Shiloh and find him watching me.
When our eyes lock, he tips his head like he’s pulling down the brim of an imaginary hat. Like he’s a chivalrous knight in modern times.
And maybe he is. But I don’t have time to test which parts of the act are real.
Midnight. Deacon. Revenge.
Then I can rest.
I glance toward the back hallway, wondering what the odds are of Ever letting me take a break.
“You need a break or something?” Sonny asks. “What’s so fascinating about the back?”
I stiffen, jerking my attention back to her.
“Oh, um…my ex,” I lie. “It kinda reminds me of the hall in my apartment building.”
“Oh.” Sonny’s face twists. “Shit, girl. You want to talk about it?”
Using Sonny’s kindness as a tool tastes wrong, but a means to an end is still a means. I crack my neck until tension releases and let my gaze drift toward the hallway again.
“He used to like to stalk me,” I say, keeping my words calm and measured. “Made it a game. I’d find him out there sometimes, lurking. Waiting for me to get home. He’d unscrew the breezeway light so it was always dark…get mad when I called the police about it.”
“You serious?” Sonny’s voice drops. “What a fucking pig.”
God, I hate lying.I glance away.
“I got out,” I add, voice tight. “I managed to run.”
“And you ran all the way to Toulouse Street,” she says.Her eyes soften. “I’m glad you did.”
“Well, I’m originally from the south. Seemed logical.”
The truth slips out before I can catch it. I feel it the second it leaves my mouth—too real, too loose—and I backtrack fast.
“I mean…if you can count Virginia as the south.” I flash Sonny a quick smile. It’s another lie, just like the surname I’ve given anyone who asked—McEntire—is, but she doesn’t know that. They’re piling up. I’m going to need to start writing them down so I can keep track of them.
We’re close enough for the men to hear.
Ever’s head turns a fraction. His eyes sharpen. Just a subtle shift, but I feel it anyway. Like a lock clicking.
“I’m just glad you got out,” Sonny says, oblivious. “You had the guts to run and you actually made it happen. You’re safe here with us.”
Her gaze promises nothing bad will ever happen to me again. It would be easy to believe her if Shiloh’s smile hadn’t gone razor-thin for half a second.
“Toulouse Street isn’t a bad place to find yourself,” Sonny adds, trying for light. “You can heal here. Nothing exciting ever happens.”
I mimic her laugh, grim. “I figured this wouldbe the one place he wouldn’t think to come after me. Completely random. No ties. But you never know.”
“Do you know self-defense? Keep your keys between your knuckles,” Sonny says, dead serious now. “And you know how to get out of a hold?”
“Uh…not really.”
