Page 12 of Her Crew

It feels good to be in something clean. To be clean. And to know that it’s not the grand prelude to a visit from one of my mother’s creepy friends.

I have to give myself a little pinch to make sure I’m not dreaming. God, this is going to take some getting used to.

Ace swipes a hand through his damp hair, then turns for the door. “We should get going. I don’t want the others to worry.”

I grab his arm and stop him. “Hey . . .” I swallow. “Thanks for that. For not . . .”

I can’t finish my sentence, but he seems to understand. A lazy smile crosses his face, drawing up that piercing below his eye. He does absolutely nothing to try, but he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life. Like something that fell from a movie screen into my lap.

“Come on, pup. Let’s get going.”

He walks ahead of me, and I follow him back to the parking lot. The crew still lingers around the van. Cigarette butts dot the ground around their feet like some sort of white-trash confetti. How long were we in there? It only felt like a few minutes, but I guess time flies when a man is fucking bathing you.

The redhead gives me a narrow-eyed glare before climbing into the van. I’m not sure what that’s about. I’m clearly clean and won’t offend her delicate senses anymore.

A guy with a long blond ponytail puts his arm around Ace’s neck. “Nice shirt, asshole.”

“That blue almost matches your eyes,” a raven-haired woman says, though her voice is hardly above a whisper.

A red hue crosses his cheeks, and I feel a moment of insecurity. Jealousy, maybe? Fuck if I know. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.

“Let’s just get going.” Ace reaches for me and pulls me into him. We climb into the van together, and I end up on his lap once more. God, I hope this is the permanent seat setup, because I like feeling his heat beneath me.

It makes me feel . . . safe?

Yeah, that’s the right word. Something about this stranger makes me feel safer than I’ve ever felt with anyone else, including my own mother. That’s fucked.

“Where are we heading?” someone asks.

“Rumson. One of the wealthiest areas in New Jersey.”

Everyone cheers, and I’m the lone silent charge inside the van. I have no clue what we’re celebrating. Or what to expect.

Then horror hits me as I remember that this is a trial to see if I’m worth keeping around. My skills will be tested, but what skills? And what if I’m not up to their standards? Will they leave me hundreds of miles from home with nothing on my back but someone else’s clothes?

Panic grips my throat in a chokehold, and I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All that safety could be ripped away if I’m not good enough at . . . whatever they do.

A warm hand drops to my thigh as Ace taps my skin. He gives my leg a squeeze and looks over at me, and the fear vanishes. The contagious energy pours from him to me, and I find myself smiling with some kind of anticipation I didn’t have before. His touch can do that much to me.

And it shouldn’t.

My mother didn’t give me much in this life, but she taught me that people can’t be trusted. Not even handsome people who pretend to be nice. His eyes are blue enough to make me forget that lesson, and I can’t.

As the conversations pick up again, I stare out the window and bid farewell to the hell I knew. My eyelids droop, and I rest my head against the cool glass. When I wake up tomorrow, it will be time to greet a new life. I just have to hope I didn’t trade one hell for another.

Chapter 8

Alec

The next day, Stacks allows me to use the van to take Tegan shopping. I pull out of the motel parking lot just outside of Rumson and head toward a strip mall. We didn’t want to stay in Rumson because it’s a bit too expensive for our tastes, and I won’t take her shopping there for the same reasons.

It’s a great hunting ground for our line of work, though.

I pull the van to a stop outside a few outlet stores. It’s not exactly Macy’s, but I hope she won’t complain.

Tegan looks at the shops, then back at me. “I don’t want you to spend that kind of money on me,” she says.

I was worried about the wrong problem. Instead of being offended by outlet stores, she fears they’ll be too expensive.