Nate leaned forward and kissed her. “We’ll do things your way then,” he said.

Ash wanted to stay right here with him, but the clock was ticking. They had to make that bus, and they needed money. Ash pulled away, and she downed the last of her coffee.

“You’ve got your list of shops, and I’ve got mine. We’ll meet at the bus station downtown when we’re done. The last bus to Taos leaves at four o’clock. Don’t be late and call if something changes,” she said, giving him one last kiss.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” Ash led Freud out before she could change her mind. Ash’s first shop was a bust. Tucked into a back street behind Hollywood Boulevard, the first pawnshop owner was a nosy bitch, staring at Ash’s tattoos with disapproval, wanting to know why she was selling all this jewelry, asking how old she was and where her parents were. Of all the days Ash encountered someone who actually gave a shit, it had to be today.

“It’s none of your damn business,” she told her before storming out.

Ash crossed McCadden and located another pawnshop, nestled between a CrossFit studio and a porn theater with a sign advertising GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS. The clerk, a gaunt, skinny man in his thirties with a lazy eye, nervous laugh, and a toothpick between his teeth, surveyed the jewelry with practiced indifference. “I’ll give you twelve hundred,” he said. His eyes narrowed, inspecting Ash up and down. “Unless you’re interested in coming to the back room? We could have a little fun, double your profits,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m not interested in anything little,” she said, glad the days where things like this happened were behind her.

The man’s smile turned to a sneer. “On second thought, this shit’s only worth nine hundred. Take it or leave it,” he grunted. Ash gritted her teeth, annoyed she’d given this dickhead the power to lowball her. She gazed down at Becca’s jewelry. God, she didn’t want to be the kind of person who stole from the people she loved. She was doing this for Nate though. That’s what she had to remember.

“Fine. Whatever,” she told Pencil Dick. She grabbed the cash, flipping him the bird on her way out. Ash hurried down Hollywood Boulevard, darting nervous glances, searching for any sign of the Tribe, when she spotted Hopper. He was an old Gulf War vet she befriended while hanging on the boulevard with Nate. The first time she saw his HOMELESS VET NEEDS HAND UP, NOT HAND OUT sign, she lost her shit. Ash’s grandpa and Becca’s dad were both veterans. She hated anyone who lied about their service. She marched right over and told him what she thought about his bullshit, while Nate looked on in surprise.