“What happens if you can’t?” Vic asked, his tattooed brow furrowing.

She gently patted his arm. “Let’s hope for the best but prepare for the worst, my dear boy. Just like we always do.”

ASH

The image of Eli’s battered face and desperate cries haunted Ash’s dreams. She startled awake, her breathing ragged and heavy, blinking at the bright sunlight streaming in through the curtains. She’d gone to sleep without saying a word to Becca about what happened to Eli, and the guilt gnawed at her. She wondered where he was now, what they’d done to him after she left. She was such a coward, leaving Skid Row, Nate, and Eli behind. To make matters worse, she’d been so careless, waking Becca up and asking to sleep in her room like she was some kind of scared little kid. So much for keeping it together.

Ash stilled, as the smell of bacon and eggs began wafting up the stairs. She grimaced, knowing that she was officially in trouble. Becca wasn’t a morning person. The only time she ever stepped foot in the kitchen before ten was when she wanted to talk. Then she was like Martha Stewart on acid.

Ash grabbed her phone off the nightstand and saw a flurry of missed calls and texts from Nate.

We need to talk.

Please Ash call me back!

I’m freaking out. CALL ME!!!

Her finger hovered over his number. She didn’t know what to say. Her phone buzzed again. Ash?

Shit, he saw she’d read his message. Ash switched off her phone, unsure of what to say, whether there was anything to say. She’d always seen Nate as a protector. Someone who looked out for the underdogs. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Ash sat up in bed. The last thing she wanted was to go to school. She considered telling Becca she was sick, but she could already imagine the interrogation that would follow. She took a quick shower, dressed, and made her way downstairs.

She watched as Becca bustled around the kitchen, a stack of vegetables and fruits piled up in front of her. Things kept getting worse. Becca was actually using the juicer. Ash hadn’t even known it worked.

“There you are,” Becca said, her smile a little too wide. She held out a glass of fresh-squeezed OJ. “Hope you got some rest.” Her words came out in a flurry, her tone too cheerful for the hour. Ash sank down at the table, the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast turning her stomach.

“So, I know something is going on and I want you to know whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Becca regarded Ash with those Bambi-esque eyes, her head cocked in that calculated manner they had to teach in therapist school.

Ash didn’t answer, pushing her eggs around the plate.

“Okay, how about we start with the new tattoo? Wanna tell me about that?” Becca asked.

That goddamn tattoo. Ash’s eyes darted down to her wrist, covered by the hoodie. She wondered when Becca had seen it. God, she should have been more careful, made sure she kept it hidden. Actually, that was wrong. She never should’ve gotten it in the first place. Ash shrugged, trying to keep her expression neutral. “It’s just a tattoo.”