“What do you mean?” I asked as I walked closer to him.

  “You got two roads in front of you,” he said seriously. “One you walk down alone, and the other you walk down holdin’ on like hell to the woman you love.”

  “You sayin’ I won’t ever find anyone else?” I joked.

  “You will,” he said easily, lifting his coffee mug to his lips. “But take it from me, they won’t ever be her.”

  The truth of that hit me like a stack of bricks.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  “Better hurry, boyo,” Gramps said, jerking his chin toward the door.

  “Fuck,” I said again, spinning on my heel.

  I didn’t run, but it was a close thing. Seconds later, I was outside scanning the parking lot. Relief hit fast as I spotted Kara’s Jeep parked over toward the picnic tables. I didn’t even see Grease until his fist was planted in my belly, knocking the air out of me.

  “What?” I gasped as soon as I could pull air into my lungs again. I looked at him in confusion.

  “You deserved that,” he said easily, moving around me toward the clubhouse. “You’re welcome for not fuckin’ up your face. Again.”

  I coughed, sure that what I’d had for lunch was going to make an appearance. Holy hell, that old fucker’s fists were like goddamn wrecking balls. I was bent over, my hands on my knees, trying not to puke when a bike started up at the far end of the building. Keeping my eyes on Kara’s car, I took a minute to learn how to breathe again.

  By the time I straightened up, I realized that Kara wasn’t in her car. I glanced over, just as Mack pulled out of the forecourt with Kara on the back of his bike.

  “Shit,” I spat, watching them go.

  She didn’t look back once.

  “Shit,” I said again, bracing my hands on my hips.

  I considered going back inside. Kara had to come back for her car at some point, right? But the idea of going back inside and getting a second helping of Grease’s particular brand of conversation didn’t sound all that appealing. After a few moments, I headed for my truck. I’d wait for Kara back at the apartments. Maybe Charlie would have some pity on me and let me wait at their place.

  Curt was just switching places with another prospect on the gate as I reached it and he walked up to my window before I could pull out onto the road.

  “I’m guessin’ it didn’t go well,” he said, searching my face.

  “What?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “I let Kara through the gate,” he replied, looking at me like I was an idiot. “And she just left on the back of her dad’s bike, so—”

  “She seem okay?” I asked.

  Curt laughed. “She was wearin’ a full helmet,” he replied. “She looked like a fuckin’ robot. What happened?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “Sure,” he said, giving my doorframe a couple taps. “That seems likely. I’ll see you at home.”

  I didn’t respond as he walked away. My mind raced as I drove home and I tried like hell not to worry. Me and Kara had history, right? One conversation wasn’t going to be the end of everything, and psyching myself out that it was wouldn’t help anything. As soon as she came home, I’d tell her that I wanted to have that conversation she’d mentioned. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been able to catch her at the club. I knew where she lived. Hell, her car was parked in front of my job. I just needed to wait a few hours, at most.

  I was still telling myself that as I climbed out of my truck and walked toward Kara and Charlie’s apartment.

  “Harrison,” a voice called from down the sidewalk.

  I jerked to a stop and turned toward it, a wide smile pulling at my lips.

  “Lover Boy,” I called as I walked toward him, laughing when he grimaced. We met in the middle with a back slapping hug. “When the hell did you get out?” I asked.

  “Yesterday,” he said, pushing me away by the shoulders. “Just Bishop now. Gus works, too. You look good, man. The outside’s treatin’ ya right.”

  “You’ll always be Lover Boy to me,” I replied.

  Bishop laughed. “People are gonna get the wrong idea about us, you keep callin’ me that.”

  “Not around here,” I replied, grinning. “Boys at the club’ll take one look at your pretty face and know exactly why I’m callin’ you that.”

  Bishop gestured toward my cut. “All in, huh?”

  “Always have been,” I replied. “Just took me a minute to realize it.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “You wanna come in?” I asked. “I’m sure we’ve got somethin’ to drink. If not, the girls probably have somethin’.”

  Bishop’s eyes caught on something over my shoulder. “Please tell me neither of your girls have long blonde hair,” he said, staring.

  I turned to see what he was looking at and laughed as I caught sight of Charlie carrying a bag of garbage down the stairs.

  “Draco,” she called. “Good! Carry this shit to the dumpster for me, would you?”

  I stepped to the side and I knew the second she saw Bishop.

  “Hello there,” she said, smiling huge as she strode toward us, her hips swaying. “I don’t think we’ve met. Did you just move in?”

  “Charlie,” I said, amusement making my lips twitch as she reached out to shake his hand with the one not holding a huge bag of trash. “This is my friend Bishop, the one I was telling you about.”

  “Ah, fuck,” she said as they shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you, Charlie,” Bishop said, still shaking her hand.

  “Yeah, you, too,” she replied snatching her hand back. She looked at me. “I’m going to kill you.”

  I laughed as she shoved the bag of garbage at my chest.

  “We’ll come by in a bit,” I said, grabbing the bag before it could fall and bust open all over the ground.

  “Door’s locked,” she said happily, walking away as she flipped me off over her shoulder.

  “I’ve got a key!”

  “Bullshit!”

  I laughed as I walked across the parking lot to where the dumpster was.

  “That was Charlie?” Bishop said, glancing over his shoulder as he walked alongside me.

  “That’s her,” I replied, tossing the garbage. “Can’t believe you never met her.”

  “It wasn’t like I had a lot of visitors,” Bishop replied. “I don’t think I even saw the damn visiting room.”

  “I shoulda came by,” I said as we walked back toward the apartments. Bishop had grown up in the foster system and didn’t really have any family. I’d known he was in there without any visitors.

  “Fuck that,” Bishop said instantly. “I wouldn’t have had you approved. You got the fuck out, man, I didn’t want you comin’ back in to see me.”

  “Still should’ve,” I said apologetically.

  Bishop waved me off. He looked up as Curt’s bike pulled into the parking lot.

  “Jesus,” he said, looking over at me. “Knew you had a twin, but that’s weird as fuck.”

  I laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Didn’t want to ask,” he said as Curt walked toward us. “But there a reason both of you look like you got hit by a truck?”

  “Small disagreement between brothers,” I replied as Curt reached us. “Shoulda seen us the day it happened.”

  “Curt, this is Bishop—”

  “Hey,” Curt said, reaching out to shake Bishop’s hand. “How’s it goin’?”

  “Not bad,” Bishop replied. “Glad to be breathin’ fresh air again.”

  “If you can call this fresh,” Curt said jokingly. The air wasn’t as smoky as it had been the week before, but it still stank.

  Bishop took a deep breath. “Smells fresh as fuck to me.”

  We all laughed.

  “We got anything to drink?” I asked Curt. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been to the grocery store.

  “Nah, but I’m sure Charlie does,” he replied. He led us toward the girls’ apartment.

  “She might not let us in,” I told him.

  “Why the hell not?” he asked, glancing over at me.

  I jerked my head toward Bishop, and Curt’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “What was that all about, anyway?” Bishop asked as we reached the door.

  “Tell you later,” I said as Curt swung the front door open without knocking.

  “Lucy, I’m home,” he called, striding inside like he owned the place.

  “You have your own fucking apartment,” Charlie replied, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “We don’t have anything to offer our guest,” Curt replied easily, going for the fridge.

  “Then go to the store,” Charlie snapped. She looked past him to where Bishop and I were standing just inside the front door. “Jesus. Fine. Come in, sit down, eat my food and drink my beer. You know you’re going to anyway.”

  “We come here because we feel so welcome,” I said, making Bishop laugh.

  I left him in the tiny living room and moved toward the kitchen.

  “Cool it, would you?” I said quietly to Charlie as I grabbed a couple beers from the fridge.

  “You cool it,” she snapped, even quieter. “You’re the one who brought sexual kryptonite into my apartment!”

  “Sexual kryptonite?” I asked with a laugh.

  “You won’t be laughing when I climb on top of your friend and start stripping,” she hissed.

  “Please don’t do that,” I replied seriously.

  “If I pictured men while I was masturbating,” she said, making me jerk back in disgust, “that is who I would picture.”

  “Please stop,” I pleaded. “Jesus Christ.”

  “If he has a dimple,” she said, pointing at me, “I will not be held accountable for my actions.” She leaned closer. “And I bet he’s loud in bed.”

  She strode toward the living room and I took a second to scrub that image from my head permanently.

  “Mostly construction,” Bishop was telling Charlie as I went back into the living room. “But I don’t have a job yet.”

  “What kind of construction?” Curt asked. “Charlie’s parents are buildin’ a new house. They might need some help with that.”

  “If I get on with the crew that builds it,” Bishop said, nodding in thanks as I handed him a beer. “You know who they’re usin’?”

  “The insurance company is being a huge heaping pile of shit,” Charlie said angrily. “So we might end up doing most of it ourselves to cut down on costs.”

  “Really?” Bishop said in surprise. “That’s tough.”

  “My dad has enough favors from people that it’s possible,” she said with a shrug. “Everyone owes him something, even plumbers and electricians.”

  “Your parents have plans drawn up yet?” Bishop asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

  The conversation continued and I contributed, but I wasn’t even sure what I’d said. I was happy as fuck to have Bishop hanging out with us, but my attention was fixed firmly on the front door, waiting for Kara to come home. It got later and later and eventually, we ran out of beer and moved on to Charlie’s stash of hard liquor.

  “He’s a good man to have at your back,” Bishop said to Curt, toasting me with his Mason jar filled with some concoction Charlie had dreamt up. “Glad he never got as pissed at me as he was at you.”

  Charlie snorted. “You should have seen them,” she said, laughing. “Rolling around on the ground like a couple of four year olds.” She bent at the waist, trying to catch her breath. “And I should know. I saw them doing the same thing when we were four.”

  “We weren’t wrestling, for fuck’s sake,” Curt argued, offended.

  “You did go down pretty quick,” I said, taking a drink of my whiskey.

  “Oh!” Charlie sang. “Burn!”

  “We’ll go another round anytime you want, brother,” Curt said, his voice laced with amusement. “Just let me stop pissin’ blood first.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Not in here,” Charlie ordered, getting to her feet. “Don’t break my shit.” She weaved her way across the room and tripped on Kara’s stuff, still packed up near the doorway.

  “Well, hell,” she said. “Someone should put that away.”

  I got to my feet as she grunted, lifting a box from the floor.

  “I’ll get that,” I said, taking it from her. I carried the box into Kara’s room and set it down at the foot of her bed. I paused. She hadn’t even made it before she’d left for Montana.

  “I can do it,” Charlie grumbled from the living room. “Just—” there was a long pause. “Oh shit.”

  I strode back out to the living room and found Charlie on the floor, scooping shit toward her drunkenly with her arms. “Don’t look,” she snapped at Curt, who was trying to help her. “Go.”

  “I’m tryin’ to help your ass,” Curt replied.

  “Don’t,” she snapped, leaning over the open backpack and the papers that had fallen out of it, like she was trying to block his view.

  I almost didn’t go closer, because she was getting seriously panicked that Curt wouldn’t take a couple steps back, but then, between her arm and her knee, I spotted a photo I hadn’t seen in years.

  “D,” Charlie said, a warning in her voice that I completely ignored. “Step back.”

  “Move,” I ordered.

  Something must have sounded off in my tone, because Bishop stood up from his place on the floor of the living room to see what the fuck was going on.

  “It’s private,” Charlie said, still hovering over the pile. “She wouldn’t want you to—”

  “Move, Charlotte,” I repeated, making her jerk in surprise at the use of her full name.

  With a grimace, she leaned back and I got a look at what she’d been hiding.

  Hundreds of pieces of notebook paper, folded into little squares littered the floor, mixed with photos and a familiar box of matches. I didn’t kneel so much as stumble to my knees.

  The photo I’d recognized was one I’d taken of me and Kara the week before my court date. She was standing with her arms wrapped tightly around my belly, her head on my chest, while I held the camera out with one hand and the other hand tangled in her hair. I was smiling. She wasn’t. I remembered the exact moment I’d taken it. I’d been trying to get her to smile, making funny faces, tickling her, but nothing had worked. She hadn’t smiled much back then.

  I swallowed hard and picked it up so I could see it better. The sadness in her eyes would’ve been enough to knock me on my ass if I hadn’t already been on the floor.

  “D,” Charlie said softly. “Just let me put all this back, okay?”

  “Don’t touch it,” I ordered, reaching for the next closest piece of paper.

  When I opened it, my stomach burned.

  If you like chicks, we can make it happen. I’ll even let you pick.

  I reached for the next one.

  I want to come all over your tits. Would you be into that?

  I grabbed another.

  Playing hard to get is only cute for a while. It’s not like everyone hasn’t already seen everything you’ve got.

  “Holy fuck,” Charlie whispered as she read it upside down.

  I reached for the next one.

  One of these days we’ll have to hang out. I’m real good with my tongue. Are you good with yours?

  My jaw ached with how hard I was grinding my teeth together, but I couldn’t stop. I grabbed another and everything stopped. It was in Kara’s handwriting.

  If you’d just been more like Charlie, none of this would’ve happened. Stop being such a fucking crybaby.

  “No,” Charlie said, her voice loud as I stared at that little piece of paper. “No, we need to put this back. Right now.”

  I looked up and met her eyes. “If you touch a single fuckin’ piece of paper, I will physically toss you out.”

  “It’s my fucking apartment,” she snapped back.

  “Don’t give a shit,” I replied seriously.

  “Charlie,” Curt said from somewhere behind me. “Come on.”

  “No,” she argued. “I’m staying right fucking here.”

  I picked up another piece of paper, this one clearly written by a girl.

  You’re such a slut.

  And another.

  You should just quit school. You know you’re going to be a prostitute anyway. Why wait? It’s not like you need to learn math for that? Can’t you count yet?

  I went through the notes one by one. Some of them were filthy, some more mild, all of them bad. The ones Kara had written herself were somehow the worst.

  Stay away from Curtis, you idiot. He hates you. You deserve it. Just move on.

  “Shit,” Curtis said quietly from over my shoulder.

  Underneath the letters was a braided bunch of hair with rubber bands at each end. The long hair she’d gotten rid of. A single beaded earring that I remembered, that had gotten twisted up in her hair all the time and we’d have to help her untangle it, but she’d kept wearing anyway because she’d loved them. A daisy chain in a small plastic baggie, withered with time. Another stack of photos, me and her, the five of us—Charlie, Rebel, Curtis, Kara and me—all standing in a line, wearing riding gear and covered in mud, a photo of me jumping off the culvert at our swimming spot, a photo of me laughing, a photo of me mid-sentence talking to someone out of frame, a photo of the two of us smiling with Kara on my shoulders.

  I went through every single piece of Kara that had fallen out of the backpack, my heart pounding with each new thing I uncovered. I emptied the rest of the backpack and found the box that had held it all. It was one I’d made in woodshop that I’d carved her name into the top of and given her long before things between us had changed. She’d kept it.

  Finally, when the notes were smoothed out in a neat stack and the other little items were set carefully on top of it, I leaned back on my heels.

  “I didn’t know she was getting those notes,” Charlie said softly. “She never said anything.”

  “Of course she didn’t,” I replied.

  Mack had been right when he said that she’d been biding time until I’d gotten out. She had. But the rest of it was so much messier than I’d realized. Somehow our relationship had gotten mixed in with everything else that had happened to her. The box of stuff was proof of that. She kept it all in a box I’d fucking gave her.