The street stretched out in front of her, the surrounding blocks, the entire city, flat as a griddle. Her gaze crossed an empty lot and settled on a strip mall. Laundromat, check cashing, pawnshop, pizza. The smell of fresh pizza wafted toward her, her stomach cramping as if her nose was screaming that the candy in her pocket was inadequate. She needed money, but she’d been turned down for six jobs today. Legitimate employment wasn’t an option at fourteen.

Yesterday, she’d slept in a shed behind her neighbor’s house, slinking out like a stray cat to feed at night. Maybe she could slip in there again if she was sure the neighbor was still asleep. She couldn’t risk being seen. If Lenny spotted her, he’d come after her, and she wasn’t going back home until he was gone. Resigned to another night nestled between two rusted bicycles and a stinking bag of potting soil, she stepped off the curb.

Whatever. She wasn’t going home. Not while Lenny was there. For all her mom’s stranger warnings, she’d brought a creep right into their house. What really hurt was Mom not believing her when she’d told her what he’d done.

Jenna tensed. Her instincts warned her as a tall man coming out of the store focused on her.

“Hey,” he called, quickening his steps to catch up.

Since Lenny, she was on alert for unwanted male attention, so she headed away from him.

“I saw what you did,” he said to her back.

His words stopped her. Fear whirled inside her. Would he turn her in? The cops would call her mom. She’d end up back at home, with Lenny sneaking into her bedroom while her mom was working the night shift.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shrugged, setting her gaze on two young men in the rear of the empty lot. A discreet exchange was made, cash for a baggie.

“Hey, I’m not judging.” He fell into step beside her. “Do you need a job?”

She hesitated. Her mother’s endless warnings about talking to strangers echoed in her head. But Mom had brought home Lenny, so what did she know? “What kind of job?”

“Waitressing.”

“You got a restaurant?”

He nodded.

“What kind?” she asked, suspicious. In her world, people didn’t do other people favors. Everything had a price.

He shrugged. “Pizza and sandwiches. Nothing fancy.”

At the word pizza, her stomach got excited.

“I’m only fourteen,” she admitted. As she’d learned, jobs required ID, and fake IDs required cash. How could she get one without the other?

“Not a problem,” he said. “It’s all under the table. What’s your name?”

“Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you, Jenna, I’m Mick.”