I don’t know why Lathan cares so damn much. “Are you really lecturing me about the rules? I fucking made the rules. I know what I’m doing.”
“Are you sure about that?” Tres asks, elbows resting on his knees, but there’s no anger in his tone.
I stand, dragging a hand through my hair. “Her pops is a junkie.”
“Yeah, and so are seventy-five percent of the people with Jessup,” Lathan argues. He’s got a point, and for some reason, I find it infuriating.
“She’s not safe.” As soon as we walked into that room, I spotted the straws. The random box of tin foil on his dresser. It was clear to me that he was using heroin. It was also clear that Evan didn’t have a fucking clue. Why would she? Normal people don’t know what to look for.
“How long?” I demanded as soon as Evan left the room. His head lolled behind him. “How long?” I asked again, my fists gripping the collar of his shirt, shaking him roughly.
“What?” he slurred, batting at my hands.
“How long have you been smoking that shit?”
“Don’t take it,” he begged, trying to pull himself up.
“I’m taking it or I’m taking your daughter.” I was taking Evan tonight either way, but I needed to see where his head was.
“Don’t take it, please,” he said again, his words garbled.
“Are you telling me that I’ve known this girl for all of ten seconds, and I care about her mor
e than her own father?”
His dazed eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and I knew I had my answer, not bothering to shake him down for the heroin I knew he’d have on him.
“She’s none of our business,” Lathan says, bringing me back to the conversation.
“So, we should turn our backs on her?” Eros asks. I knew he’d be agreeable when it came to her. “It’s just for the night?”
“Just for the night.”
Eros shrugs, shoving a handful of hot Cheetos into his mouth. “I’m in.”
“Definitely not,” Lathan says.
“You said she’s not safe. What’s she doing after this?”
“Not my problem,” I grind out. I got her out of there tonight, but I can’t do anything about when I’m not here. Lathan looks satisfied, and I’m tempted to renege just to piss him off. He’s not in charge. I don’t answer to him or anyone. Eros narrows his eyes skeptically, but I ignore it.
“Your mom was asking for you earlier,” Tres informs me. Great. That means she’s heard about Evan. News travels fast around here. I’m sure Valeen had something to say about their little encounter. I make a mental note to ask my grandmother about what she said to Evan.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’m out.” I turn away from the fire for the bunkhouse. Walking up the three steps, I expect to find Evan crashed out, but she’s sitting on the couch with her chin resting on her knees, biting on her thumbnail as she stares off into space. She’s changed into some short shorts and a thin tank top. No bra. Good choice because it gets hot as fuck in here. Bad choice because she’s hot as fuck and sharing a trailer with four guys.
“You’re awake.”
“Can’t sleep,” she says, blinking glossy eyes. “They aren’t too fond of me.” She motions toward the door with her chin.
“Don’t take it personally.” I walk over, taking a seat on the cushion next to her. “Tell me about that night.” She knows which one I’m referring to. The night we met.
Evan shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing to tell. I was so exhausted, I slept for an entire day after I got back to the hotel. When I finally dragged myself out of bed to shower, someone came into our room, stole a bunch of expensive stuff, then when my dad went to fight him off, he pushed him down the stairwell.”
“And they never caught the guy?”
“You know they didn’t.”
“What happened after?”