Grabbing the thumb around my neck, I twisted and with my free hand slung a sloppy punch at the underside of his jutting elbow.
It must have jangled some nerve endings, because he let go of my neck and swore. I ran for the door and threw myself outside and down the porch steps.
I fell against Janie, who was waiting to see if I was going to be okay.
“Go, go!” I shoved her, hard. She sobbed and ran across the scrub yard. Disappeared around the next duplex.
The Mercedes was parked right outside. I rushed to the passenger door before glancing back.
My father stood in the doorway, rubbing his elbow and smiling. He stretched, planting a hand on the door frame above him and leaning forward, opening out his chest muscles like a promise.
I opened the door and collapsed in the seat.
Cyndra squinted at the unit.
“Is that your dad? He’s huge.”
I slammed the door. The Mercedes started down the street.
My jaw throbbed and felt wet. I passed a light hand over it—no blood. The wet feeling was the bone bruise forming.
I hugged my ribs and caught my breath carefully, so it wouldn’t hurt as much.
“Why the hell did you come here? We were supposed to meet at school.” My voice was harsh. “Goddamn it!”
“Michael told me to pick you up early. To take you to lunch.” Her eyes flitted between me and the road.
I leaned against the door. Rage warring with the shaking in my chest.
Cyndra kept glancing at me. She steered us onto the highway and headed toward the swank mall.
She didn’t speak again until we were winding onto the access road. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
My eyes closed. My head rested against the leather. “Sure.”
She parked. The Mercedes gave an excited rev as she turned it off. Her hand brushed my arm.
“You came out of there like your tail was on fire.”
I turned to face her, and she released a slight gasp. My jaw.
“Are you okay?” Concern lit her eyes and made her voice sound different.
I nodded, because what else do you do? “Just don’t pick me up at my house. Ever.”
She nodded, like it was her fault. The corner of my mouth twitched up.
“I should have told you yesterday.”
But Michael had already known. He’d sure as hell answer for it when I saw him.
We got out of the car and went into the store.
I was on autopilot, still feeling shaky from adrenaline and the fight, just following her gentle tugs on my arm. But what I really wanted was to sit down.
Cyndra steered me through the store, down an escalator, and led me to the same chair I’d sat in before. I let out a pent-up breath and watched the black-and-white fish defend his corner.
“Be right back.”
She came back with a tray piled with food. She also had some ice wrapped in a cloth napkin. She eased a chair close and hesitantly held the napkin up toward my face, like she was afraid of me or afraid it would hurt.
“It’s okay.” I must have looked pretty vacant for her to be moving so carefully.
She smiled and touched the cloth to my jaw. My arms were lying on the table, and she had to reach over them to hold the napkin in place. Almost like she was reaching out to hug me or like I could lift the arm off the table and drape it around her.
We sat like that for a while, her holding the ice-filled napkin on my jaw, me watching the fish and imagining holding her. When the napkin got too wet, she put it down.
“Thanks,” I said.
We ate and talked about stupid things like the fish or movies. I told her about the zombie movie Janie and I had watched.
“I don’t really get zombie flicks,” she said. “The others sure do seem to like them, though.”
The way she said the others made it seem like she wasn’t part of the scene.
She pushed her chair back and patted her stomach. “Ugh. I’m going to look fat tonight.”
“The hell you say,” I told her, taking another bite of the gourmet burger. I had to chew slowly and on only one side of my mouth.
“Why, Jason, I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She leaned into me a little, for just a moment, seeming happy.
“Then you weren’t listening, princess.”
She smiled and leaned into my shoulder again, as I had hoped she would.
I finished the burger and tried to banish thoughts about Cyndra that went beyond the food.
“My stepdad’s got a personal shopper here,” Cyndra said, after we’d finished eating. We stood and started walking. She steered me into the guts of a plush department store. “I had her pull us some stuff to save time.”
A thin woman in a form-fitting skirt glided over to us. “Cyndra, my dear.” They clasped hands. The woman brushed a kiss above each of Cyndra’s cheeks.
She turned to me. Her eyes flicked to my jaw and widened slightly. It only lasted a moment before she drew herself up and looked back at Cyndra. “So this is the young man?”
I tried not to look behind me for anyone else.
The woman led us to a dressing room and indicated a rack of clothes. She and Cyndra exited, waiting in plush chairs right outside.
I eased off the hoodie and T-shirt, taking a moment to check out my jaw and side in the full-length mirror. The jaw was already red-gray and heading to black-and-purple, with a crusted welt to one side from his ring. My side wasn’t bruised yet, but it would show up later.
I tried on the clothes and some shoes, not stopping to look at the price tags, not trying to keep track of which ones Cyndra had said yes to and which ones she had said “weren’t me.” How she knew, I had no idea. But I had to admit that she had good taste. When we finished, Cyndra signed something and handed me the bags.
She led me back through the mall. We walked toward the exit.
“Do you like them?” she asked as we went past the aquarium and the water wall.
“The fish?”
“The clothes, Slick.” Her voice took on that mocking tone so quickly. I wondered if I’d hurt her feelings.
“Yeah, they’re nice,” I said. “I like them fine.”
Cyndra shook her head and pushed through the mall door.
CHAPTER TWELVE