I grab a T-shirt off my floor and shrug it on, yanking at the hem harder than I need to. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I take a deep breath, trying—and failing—to relax. Another bang echoes down the hall, and Arrow’s muffled voice calls out something that’s royally pissed. I roll my eyes and grab a pair of jeans out of a drawer, pulling them on and immediately hating them. Back home in Denver, jeans are always a welcome barrier against the cold. Here in the Southwest, they’re just annoyingly hot and really not improving my mood.
I jog to the front door, throwing it open and making sure my scowl is obvious, even though it lost its effect on Arrow years ago. He stands on the doorstep, his hands interlaced behind his neck, his foot tapping out a nervous rhythm. Behind him, the sun rises over the desert horizon, making me squint. What’s Arrow doing here so early, anyway? It’s like six o’clock, and definitely not the right time for a confrontation.
Arrow nods to the open door. “Can I come in?”
I close it just a little, so only my face shows. “No. Ali’s sleeping.”
Arrow shoves past me, clearly not giving a shit about my excuse. I cuss at him, but don’t put up a struggle as he barges into the RV and heads for my bedroom. Arrow flops down on my messy bed and throws one arm over his face, leaving me to stand in the doorway.
“Dude,” he grumbles, “why the hell weren’t you answering your phone?”
“I didn’t hear it go off until a minute ago.”
He grunts. “Did you see my message?”
“I just read it.”
“And?”
“And what?”
He abruptly sits up and pins me with a glare. “And I told you so. I told you there’d be issues if you brought that girl along. And now look at the mess you’re in. We’re in the middle of a tour, and you’ve got a psycho in your RV that half the country is now looking for!”
“She’s not psycho,” I hiss.
Arrow scoffs. “What sob story did she tell you to make you believe that?”
“It wasn’t a sob story. And I don’t have the right to just spill everything she told me.”
Arrow shakes his head and throws his hands up in disbelief. “Seriously, Jace? We don’t keep secrets from each other. That’s rule number one, and you know it.”
“No, that’s not rule number one,” I snap. “Rule number one is that we trust each other. And, right now, I need you to trust me, okay? She’s not a liar. She has a severely abusive father and some really shitty luck. She deserves my help. Our help. And you can’t just walk away from her.” Arrow has always been my right-hand man, and he can’t just ditch me like this.
Arrow’s eyes narrow. “Yes, I can.”
“You can what?”
“I can walk away. I don’t have to do anything you say, Jace. You might be our lead singer, but you’re sure as hell not our leader. None of us have to listen to you.”
I let out a string of cuss words. Arrow just stares at me, his green eyes evaluating me with eerie calmness. When I finally run out of insults, I pause for breath and glare at him, waiting for whatever retort he’s cooked up.
“But I’ll still help her,” he says.
I’m too shocked to say anything for a long moment. Then I swallow back my surprise. “What?”
“You heard me. I said I’ll help.”
“But you said . . .”
He scoffs. “I said you can’t force me to do anything. And you can’t. But I want to help you, and you want to help Ali, so . . .” He shrugs. “I’ll help her. It seems like the best way to keep you out of trouble, if you’re going to be too stubborn to kick her out.”
I just stand there and struggle to figure out a response, not quite believing I heard him correctly.
“I don’t trust that girl, Jace,” he says. “But I do trust you. You’re right, that is rule number one. And you trust Ali, so . . . yeah. Actually, I guess I do trust her.”
I stumble over my reply a couple times, but finally manage, “Thank you. Seriously, just . . . thanks.”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “You’ve always had my back. I’d be a total jerk to not have yours. And you’ve already filled the position of Chief Jerk, so there’s no room in the band for another one.”
I scoff and throw a mock punch at his arm. “Don’t make me regret thanking you.”
His expression turns serious again. “As long as you don’t make me regret not turning Ali in. I hope to god you know what you’re doing, Jace. Keeping around a chick who has an Amber Alert out on her is just asking for trouble.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before moving toward the door, gesturing for me to follow as he says, “Now, come on. Tony wants to meet with us at seven, and if you don’t want him barging in here to find you, we’d better go find him.”
20
ALI
I FLIP THE page of one of Jace’s fitness magazines, even though I have zero clue what I just read. Something about an abdominal workout, I think, although the pictures looked more like a runway model being tortured. Either way, I couldn’t focus on the article, just like I haven’t been able to focus on a single thing in the past hour since I woke up.