“Bastard,” I muttered, wiping my eyes. “You son of a bitch bastard.”

The chatter of the maids and the thumps of their cart as they wheeled it down the cracked sidewalk were soothing. It was past noon, and the motel was empty but for us. Being Wednesday, it would likely stay that way.

I lay curled up on the cot, my head on the clean smell of the borrowed hotel pillow, and my shoulders covered by the thin car blanket. I wasn’t crying. I was not crying. Tears were leaking out as I waited for the ugly feelings to fade, but I wasn’t crying, damn it!

Sniffing loudly, I reassured myself that I wasn’t. My head hurt and my chest hurt, and I knew if I cared to unclench my hands from the blanket clutched under my chin that they would be trembling. So I lay there and wallowed, falling into a light doze as the heat of the day warmed the van. I barely heard the sound of Jenks and Jax returning to the room. But the shout filtering through the open door jerked me awake.

“I thought he was with you!” Ivy shouted. “Where is he?”

Jenks’s response was unheard, and I jumped at the hammering on the van door. Sitting up, I put my sock feet on the floor, drained of emotion.

“Nick!” Ivy shouted. “Get your ass out here!”

Numb, I stood, grabbed the sliding door, and pulled it back with a crunch of metal to look at Ivy with bleary, empty eyes.

Ivy’s anger froze, her eyes almost black as she scanned the van and saw me hunched under my blanket. The fog had lifted, and a cold breeze shifted the tips of her sin-black hair, shimmering in the light. Behind her, Jenks lingered in the doorway to the motel room, Jax on his shoulder, six bags with colorful logos in his grip and a question high in his eyes. “He’s not here,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t rasp.

“Oh God,” Ivy whispered. “You’ve been crying. Where is he? What did he do to you?”

The protective tone in her voice hit me hard. Miserable, I turned away, my arms about my middle. She followed me in, the van unmoving when her weight hit it. “I’m fine,” I said, feeling stupid. “He…” I took a deep breath and looked at my hands, perfect and unmarked. My soul was black, but my body was perfect. “He’s been telling Al stuff about me in return for favors.”

“He what!”

Jenks was suddenly beside her. “Jax, did you know about this?” he said tightly, the depth of his anger looking wrong on his youthful features.

“No, Dad,” the small pixy said. “I only watched the one time.”

Ivy’s face was pale. “I’ll kill him. Where is he? I’m killing him right now.”

I took a breath, more grateful than I probably should have been that they would defend me like this. Maybe I was just trusting the wrong people. “No you aren’t,” I said, and Jenks jiggled on his feet, clearly wanting to protest. “He didn’t tell Al anything too bad—”