Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(9)



I didn’t know how to take that, and by the time I got my thoughts in line, he was already all the way down the steps. I knew if he disappeared, I would never see him again and I couldn’t let that happen. He was my only link to Race, no matter what that meant for me.

“I need to help.”

He looked over his shoulder at me and I knew enough not to follow him any farther.

“You couldn’t even help yourself. You really think you’re going to stop anyone with a Taser and a frying pan?”

I also had a loaded nine-millimeter in a nightstand next to my bed that Race had made sure I knew how to use, but I figured that was information he didn’t need to have.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I knew it was you.”

“And if it hadn’t been me and you missed with the Taser, you would’ve been f**ked. Literally. I work better alone. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t need some farm girl slowing me down or messing with my flow.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. I had heard a lot of things about the way I looked, some more flattering than others, but never had anyone insinuated I looked like I belonged on a farm.

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, at least that’s what I think the noise was supposed to be, and jumped down a few more stairs.

“It’s the freckles and the ivory skin. You look like a little girl on the farm. You definitely don’t look like you belong in the inner city, and you sure don’t look like you’re twenty.”

Well, he didn’t look like he was just a couple years older than that, but there was no denying he totally looked like a criminal and all the dark and dangerous things he supposedly was.

“Well, I’ve never been on a farm in my life and I will do whatever it takes to keep Race safe and bring him home, with or without you.”

I wanted to sound strong. I wanted to sound like I would be valuable to him. I didn’t. I sounded scared and unsure. He heard it.

“Without me, Copper-Top.” And then he was gone. Just vanished. Disappeared into the night like the thief he was.

I sighed and went back up to my apartment. I wasn’t worried about any more unwanted visitors. Lester, the homeless guy who lived on the stoop, didn’t let anyone in the building that wasn’t supposed to be there. All I did was bring him a plate of food and pass along a six-pack every now and then and he kept an eagle eye on me. The only way Benny and his goons had managed to find me was because they had ambushed me on an early Sunday morning when Lester took his stinking self to church. They were lucky. I was not. I was also scared.

I was scared for Race—scared for me. And if I was being honest, I was one hundred percent terrified of Bax. I was street-smart. I knew how to take care of myself, but there was nothing in my bag of tricks that made me think I was capable of dealing with a guy like him. He was a very scary wild card, but I needed him. I had never needed anyone in my life before Race showed up at my door.

My cell phone was ringing just as I was twisting the locks shut on the front door, even though I now knew they were useless, thanks to my midnight visitor. I snatched it up and went to the window to wave down at Carmen.

She laughed in my ear and I flopped down on the couch. She was sweet. A single mom . . . Marco and Paulie kept her busy. They were good kids. She was a good mom but this wasn’t a fairy tale, so I knew life was hard for all of them, especially since Marco was thirteen and Carmen was only six years older than me. We tried to watch out for each other, but living like this was every man and woman for themselves, and the sooner you learned that, the better off you were. Expectations were foolish to have. The reality of the situation kept all of us honest and allowed us to form loose bonds with each other.

“So? What did he say?”

I sighed and twisted one of my orange curls around my finger and stared up at the yellowish-tinted ceiling. It wasn’t a great apartment, but it was far from the worst place I had ever lived.

“Not a whole lot.”

“He have any idea where Race might be?”

“No, but he didn’t seem overly concerned that something bad had happened to him either.”

“Your brother told you that he was all kinds of ‘take care of business.’ You should’ve believed him. Race was always up front with you, even when you didn’t want to hear it.”

She was right, so I sighed again.

“He’s not going to be back. I’m not going to know what’s going on. Race could be out there anywhere. Hurt, in trouble, or worse, and I’ll never know.”

She muttered something over her shoulder and there was the clatter of dishes in the background. She got back on the line and sighed.

“This Novak guy is no joke. He’s a bad man and Race told you all along that getting tangled up with him was the worst thing he had ever let happen in his life. I hate to tell you this, honey, but this might just be a situation for the bad guys to outdo each other. Heroes have no place in this kind of fight. It takes nasty to fight nasty, and the word around the Point is that nobody is nastier than Novak.”

I knew Race wasn’t perfect, that he had made a lot of really bad decisions, decisions that had life-changing consequences, but despite that, he was MY hero, and if that meant hitching my wagon to the devil’s black horse to see this through, then that’s just what I would do.

“If Novak is that bad, I don’t understand how some two-bit criminal who’s hardly old enough to drink legally can stand a chance against him. Not only that, how does he have enough clout to do anything about Race? He’s been locked up for the last five years, how does he even have a leg to stand on in this kind of fight?”

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