But his safety was on my mind also. His and Leo’s.

When I was in Detroit, I was being followed by a gang member or two who’d been hired to kill me. I’d suspected Dao had been behind it, far too late. Brazuca confirmed it tonight. Dao, through his connections, had been having me watched. Biding his time until it was somehow easy. A murder in Detroit? Nobody would blink an eye. He knew that. It’s why he set those young men after me.

They found Nate Marlowe instead.

Shot him one morning as he stepped into his kitchen, before I could warn him, or move, or speak. I watched Nate fall to the ground, and I saw the light go out of his eyes. I sat by his hospital bed and told him how sorry I was, but it wasn’t enough. He had been the first man I’d let inside me in a very, very long time. It wasn’t a decision I’d made lightly, and I made it only because it was him. A musician who saw straight through all my bullshit and wanted me to sing with him anyway. I didn’t deserve him, but I didn’t need a bullet to take him away from me. Now, according to a new radio update, Nate is recovering at home. But his voice will never be the same.

Dao has taken something beautiful from the world.

The blues song I sang with Nate Marlowe, the one I’ve been hearing on the radio, is about a woman who is nothing but trouble. As much as I try to run away from it, hide, bury my problems or drown them in a barrel of whiskey or one of its substitutes, it always finds me. I’m caught unawares, with my pants down.

I’m going to have to start paying better attention, taking stock.

By Leo’s bedside I find a selection of healing crystals hanging from leather thongs. I take one down and hide it in his bedside table by a half-empty box of condoms, making sure to keep the condoms in front for when Leo goes looking. Safety first. Then I thread the brass key from my pocket through the strip of leather and tie it around my neck.

Taking stock goes badly, worse than I could have anticipated:

Intuition, jacked.

Strength, poor.

Cardio, not impressive but better than your average citizen.

Dark circles, under eyes.

Excessive mucous, nostrils.

Old gunshot wound, shoulder.

Old sprain, ankle.

Fresh scratches, arms and legs.

Fresh purple bruises, ribs.

Fresh scarring from smoke inhalation, lungs and throat.

Spite and vengeance, heart.

Continuous battering, soul.