The thief—thin and filthy and not much older than she was—shoved her iPod across the concrete. He’d probably scraped the crap out of the case.

She didn’t move to take it. She couldn’t take her eyes off that gun. Her breathing felt too quick.

She should be running now, right? Saying thank you? What the hell was happening here?

Tyler jerked his head toward the road. “Get out of here, punk.” When the thief didn’t move fast enough, Tyler made a threatening move. The kid fought for his footing and ran, his feet scraping pavement.

Quinn kind of wished she could swipe the iPod and tiptoe away.

Tyler slid the gun into a holster at the small of his back and took a long drag from his cigarette. “You going to take that or what?”

Her iPod was on the ground right in front of his boots, and Quinn really didn’t want to get that close. She remembered the burning pain of his palm on her forearm. She remembered Nick telling her that Tyler had roughed up Becca.

Then again, Becca sure hadn’t thought he was scary enough to warrant telling Quinn about it.

“Come on,” said Tyler, a dark smile on his lips. “If you don’t have music, I can’t enjoy the free show anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

His eyes flicked at the woods across the street.

Screw him. She turned her back and started walking. “Go to hell.”

“I think maybe a thank-you is in order.”

“I think maybe a fuck you is in—”

“Would you take the stupid iPod?”

She whirled, hearing him right behind her. He was closer than she was ready for, and her breath rushed out of her chest.

In his hand was her beat-up iPod.

She hesitated, then took it. She wanted to fling it at him, but pride wilted in the face of practicality. It would take her forever to gather enough money to get another one. The case was scratched but unbroken, and the screen lit up when she pressed the button.

He didn’t move back, and she finally had to, lest he think she liked being this close to him.

Tyler took another draw on his cigarette. The glow lit his cheeks and turned his eyes haunting. “Scared of me, baby girl?”

“Are you aware you sound like a douche bag?”

He laughed, blowing smoke through his nose. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“None of your business. Have another cigarette?”

His eyebrows went up. “You want one?”

No. She didn’t. She’d only ever smoked once. But she had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do and she needed something to do with her hands before they started shaking.

She gave Tyler a look. “Yeah. You have one or not?”

He pulled a pack from his back pocket and shook one free. “Do you have a lighter?”

“No. Don’t you?”