Shady Lady

“That should do it. Let’s get you an ice pack and some Aleve.” I’d started carrying the stuff in my bag because sometimes—after I’d handled my mother’s necklace and my power changed—the burns hurt too much to bear, even though they no longer left new scars.

“I’ll live,” she said.

“This time.” I had to stop putting her at risk. Maybe I should put her on a bus, even if she didn’t want to go. Before it was too late. “Look, Shan, I really think—”

“No.” She slammed the first door open and stomped to the apartment. “If you want to get rid of me, I’ll go. But you’re not sending me to my dad. I’m not a little kid. . . . I can get a job. Maybe I’ll try Cali. I hear it’s pretty there.” She glared, as if daring me to object. “You did fine on your own.”

“Not really,” I said softly. I’d never told anyone this. I didn’t like thinking about it. “I landed well at first. I found a job in a used bookstore and I had a room in a boardinghouse. But when the store went under, I couldn’t find anything else. Pretty soon, I had no money, and I had no place to stay. I don’t make friends easily, so I had nobody to turn to. I moved on with only enough money in my pocket to get to the next town. I found myself sleeping in the bus station. I did things I’m not proud of.”

I’d taken insane risks, and it was lucky I wasn’t diseased or dead. It would break my heart if I drove Shannon to that with my good intentions.

“Like what?”

She wouldn’t be satisfied unless I told her. I wouldn’t reveal my past to anyone else for any other reason— only to keep Shan from repeating my mistakes. I was over it, mostly. I’d learned to deal. But she needed to know how much I trusted her.

So while I wrapped an ice pack, fixed a glass of water, and set out two pills, I revealed the whole story. Nobody knew this much about me—I’d picked up men for food and shelter, using serial monogamy as a means of survival. Those relationships never lasted long, because I chose men who wouldn’t reject me: ones who’d take me home and were lonely enough not to complain if I stayed. But I always moved on, feeling worse each time, because I lived with them out of desperation, not desire.

My past left me with such low self-esteem that I didn’t demand to be an equal partner with Chance, when he came along. I didn’t feel worthy of him, and I did anything to please him; I suborned my old identity because it was awful and tawdry, and I wanted to forget that woman, the sad, desperate Corine. It would kill me if Shan ever thought she wasn’t equal to any man who wanted her.

I went on. “By the time I met Chance, I had gotten myself together. I had a place of my own and a job at a dry cleaner’s. But you know how hard it is get work if you don’t have an address? How hard it is to keep clean in public restrooms so people’s eyes don’t slide away from you? It’s easier if you’re young. But if you’re old and homeless, it’s the next thing to an invisibility spell. I knew people who died on the street, people who froze to death and nobody noticed. Nobody cared. The city just removed the bodies like they were leaves in the street.” I bit my lip against the burn of tears and the throbbing in my head. “So if you think I’m letting you leave with nothing, you’re out of your mind. I want better than that for you.”

And that was part of why I couldn’t turn down Escobar’s money. I wanted her to have a future brighter than I could provide alone. Having a place of our own mattered desperately, and now maybe she’d understand why. If Chance knew, he might get why my pawnshop had meant everything to me, and, with it blown to shit, why I felt as if someone I loved had died. I needed a home, dammit.

“I had no idea,” she whispered.

“Nobody does.” I exhaled shakily and got my own Aleve and agua.

Her expression said she understood; we didn’t need to speak of this again. Thank God. Though I’d come to terms with my mistakes, I didn’t enjoy reliving them, even for Shan’s benefit.

But she had her own point to make as well. “Look, I’ll stop threatening to leave if you stop talking about sending me away. I know it’s dangerous; I’m not an idiot. But for the first time I feel like I belong and I’m not giving that up. Okay?”

I downed my water like it was a shot of something stronger. “Fair enough.”

Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

In the morning, Chuch called. “Where are you, prima?”

“I think you’re better off not knowing.” I hesitated. “I’m so sorry. I brought this down on you.”

“You don’t know that. If Montoya knew we got involved in the raid on his place, then maybe he was already gunning for us. If you hadn’t warned us, it might’ve been a lot worse. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten out the back.”

I suspected he was trying to make me feel better. “I’d prefer it if you stayed with Eva.”

He swore softly. “Who you think made me call you?”

I smiled because it sounded like her, nearly at her due date and thinking about revenge. She was going to be the most unusual mom on her block. “Don’t you have other stuff to do, like, say, see about having your house rebuilt?”

“My cousin Ramon’s already on it.”

“The one who gave your tía Rosita such a cheap funeral?”

“Yeah, well. He learned his lesson.”

“Eva really wants you to do this?”

The phone rustled; then his wife came on the line. “Seriously, chica. I’ll call if I think the baby’s coming. I don’t feel right about you facing this on your own.”

“I’m not, actually. I have Shannon. And Escobar’s men.”

“Pfft,” she said. “You need friends too. I’d be there if I could.”

A little pang went through me. “Even now? I cost you your house.”

“Bullshit. It’s like Chuch said.”

“Okay. Here’s the address.” I recited it to her.

“Gotcha. Take care.”

“You too.”

Shannon stepped into the living room. Her bruises glowed almost purple, and her cheek had swollen overnight. She looked like I’d backhanded her for giving me lip. “Chuch is in, I take it?”

“Yeah. I just need to decide how he can help.”

“Let me know if you need me. I’ll be surfing.”

With a nod, she went back to her laptop while I fretted over Jesse. Not knowing got the best of me, so I dialed the police station and asked for Glencannon. It was a long shot they’d put me through. The officer on the other end asked for my name and then put me on hold. I listened to bad Muzak for five minutes before anyone answered.

The lieutenant picked up eventually. “Ms. Solomon, what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could tell me how he’s doing. Physically.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t call his parents.”

“To be honest, sir, I spoke to you longer than I did with them. That was our first meeting.”

“Ah,” he said. “Not the best time for it. Well, he came out of surgery just fine, no complications. I posted guards and it’s been quiet.”

“Could you tell me what room? I’d like to call before he’s sequestered or whatever you call it.”

If he found it strange I didn’t already know, Glencannon didn’t mention it. “He’s in four oh five. They should put you right through.” He hesitated, and then added, “Tomorrow or the next day, he’ll be transferred to a city- owned safe house.”

“I understand.” He was telling me to say what I needed to because I wouldn’t be speaking to Jesse for a while. “You’ll make sure nobody else has access to that information, right?”

“I hope you’re not telling me how to do my job.”