He pulled into the gravel lot by a narrow strip of beach and parked in front of Paolo’s Pizza Shack, a walk-up restaurant that had seen better days. The small red weathered-wood building was indeed a shack, with a handwritten laminated menu nailed to the wall beside the ordering window and a few picnic tables out front beneath strings of lights. It wasn’t much, but it was all Paolo Russo and his twelve-year-old son, Adrian, had, and it was enough to keep a roof over their heads and smiles on their faces.

Diesel threw open his door and went around the truck to help Tracey out.

“I’ve never been to this end of the Harbor.” She looked around the parking lot. “There isn’t much here.”

“How much do you need?”

“That’s a weird question.”

“Is it? Or have you just never thought about it before?” He had a feeling she’d thought about how much she needed plenty of times, considering she’d gone from a horrible situation to staying at a shelter with very little to her name, and she didn’t strike him as the type to forget what it was like to have nothing once she was back on her feet.

She seemed to mull over his question as he reached into the glove compartment and grabbed the book he’d bought for Adrian.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He closed the truck door and held up the book. Her brows knitted. “The Two Towers? Do you like to read while you eat?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for him.” He motioned behind her to Adrian, the skinny, dark-haired, sharp-minded bundle of energy wheeling his wheelchair around the side of the building.

Adrian’s eyes widened with excitement. “Diesel!”

“Wheels, my man. How’s it going?” Diesel and Adrian did their secret handshake, smacking palms, gripping each other’s fingers, then bumping fists, making an explosion sound as they pulled their hands back.

“Great! I’m almost finished with The Fellowship of the Ring.” Adrian looked curiously at Tracey. “Are you his girlfriend?”

Tracey’s eyes widened.

“Christ, kid,” Diesel grumbled. “Don’t ask her that.”

Adrian looked confused. “Why not? You’ve never brought a girl here before.”

“Because it puts us in a weird position.”

“Why? She either is or isn’t your girlfriend. What’s weird about it?”

Tracey laughed, and man it was good to hear after all she’d been through.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she said. “But I like the way you made him squirm. My name’s Tracey. What’s your name?”

“Adrian, but you can call me Wheels if you want. That’s my road name. Diesel gave it to me. You don’t have a road name because girls don’t have them, right?”

“Um, yeah. That’s right.”