She had no idea what to say. She had no idea what Tyler expected. Just like before, she felt trapped by circumstance. She could get out of this truck and . . . and, what? Sleep on the street? But if she went home with Tyler, would he be looking to hook up?

She kept thinking of the way Anthony had grabbed her ass. He certainly wasn’t the first of her brother’s friends to lay a hand on her. She swallowed.

At least Tyler’s apartment would mean a place to sleep. At least he wasn’t a total stranger.

“Your place is fine,” she said. “If the offer is still open.”

“It is,” he said. He shut up and drove.

Tyler’s apartment was a lot nicer than she was expecting. Hell, it was nicer than her family’s apartment.

Lush wine-colored carpeting stretched everywhere. Two bedrooms were at the back, each massive. One had a king-size bed, the other had two queens. A huge kitchen sported granite countertops. Plush furniture sat everywhere and a huge flat-screen television hung on the wall. It wasn’t immaculately clean or anything—enough comfortable clutter was scattered around that it looked lived in—but Tyler wasn’t a slob.

“Wait,” she said, taking a second look around. “Is this your parents’ place?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sort of. My grandmother used to live here, and they inherited it when she died. They were going to fix it up to sell it, but then they told me I could live here if I did the work.”

She looked around again. “You did all this yourself?”

“Mostly. I had a few friends help me. Mom had the counters installed, but I tore down the old wallpaper and did all the painting. Hung the new cabinets, too.” He shrugged. “It beats a dorm.”

No kidding. Then she had another thought.

“Do you live alone?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “My friend Seth was going to move in after he graduated, but . . .” His voice trailed off.

Seth. Seth Ramsey. Quinn knew all about him. “But your friend tried to rape my friend and now he’s in a ton of trouble,” she finished.

Tyler frowned. “He’s not really my friend anymore.”

“Don’t like rapists?” she quipped.

“You going to hold me accountable for something Seth did?”

It was almost the same thing she’d said to Nick. She didn’t know why she was even picking at this. Maybe because she needed to pick at something before her brain exploded.

A crack pipe. In her bedroom. God.

She dropped her backpack on the floor and swung into one of his dining room chairs. “So why isn’t Seth your friend anymore?”

Tyler leaned on the back of a chair and looked at her. “You know I don’t like the Merricks, yeah?”

“It’s come up once or twice.”