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  I should have asked these questions last night, but she had shaken me to my core.

  I didn’t want to scare Sierra, but this wasn’t good and it needed to be dealt with. So I texted: He may have followed you home tonight. You have to be careful.

  The silence was telling. Finally she texted back: Yeah.

  That wasn’t enough for me. We should report him to the police review board. Cops can’t do that. It will stop him from attacking you again.

  Her text protested: I can’t get him in trouble. He helped me with Lola for a long time.

  I tightened my lips. I’ll do it. What’s his last name?

  She didn’t answer, and I wanted to reach through my phone to take it from her. How could she protect an asshole like that?

  I texted again: Don’t let him get away with this. You can’t. Do you always want to be afraid when you’re walking home at night? They’ll slap him on the wrist and he’ll leave you alone.

  After a few moments, she finally answered: Dick Langstrom. He’s a detective.

  I smiled, glad that she listened to me. I had to be sure she was okay. She trusted people too easily. Once again, I had that odd feeling of wanting to protect her from guys like me.

  She deserved better.

  I’ll let you know after I report it, I texted back.

  Thanks!

  I wanted to be sweeter to her. She deserved that. But it was all tangled up in my lies.

  First, I would make sure she was safe. Then I would deal with the mess I had made of our relationship.

  I called the 800-number for civilians to complain about cops. I was surprised that even though it was nearly ten on a Sunday night, I got a response instantly. I described what had happened to the investigator on the line.

  Then I waited on hold for a long time before the investigator came back, and said, “There is no Dick Langstrom or Richard Langstrom who works for the NYPD as a detective or a police officer. Nor as support staff, in any capacity.”

  “He isn’t a cop?” I demanded.

  “No. Did he show you a badge?”

  “No. But my… he may have showed a badge to my girlfriend.” It wasn’t the right word for what we had, but it was the best word that fit.

  “Do you have his phone number or address?” When I admitted I didn’t, she said, “Have your girlfriend report it. Impersonating a police officer is a crime. Give her this number. We’ll need his address or phone number.”

  I hung up, my heart pounding.

  Dick had lied about his job. What did Sierra say—he had helped her with Lola for a “long time.” The whole time he had been lying to them.

  It was scary and awful, and yet I couldn’t shake the knowledge that I was doing the same thing. The exact same thing. I lied to women to get them to sleep with me.

  Dick had probably lied to Lola to get her to sleep with him. And then he built an entire relationship on it. Like I was doing with Sierra.

  I tried to tell myself that I was different—I hadn’t roughed up Sierra. Only I did, in the guise of a scene. I had scared her and took advantage of her naivety because I could. It was only words, but sometimes words were terrible enough.

  I should know that better than anyone.

  I found myself clutching my hair and staring at my hateful view. My lying view that told women so much without me saying a word. A rumor and a lucky apartment had helped me slide into becoming a monster.

  Who was I kidding? No kid as unloved as me could grow up and be able to act like a real human being. It didn’t take beatings and starvings to warp a kid. It just took people who had better things to do than pay attention to you.

  So I decided to be something I wasn’t, so that women would want to be with me.

  Including Sierra.

  As much as I wanted to run far and fast from all of this—my usual solution any time it got too real—this time I was worried about Sierra. I knew my own motivations. But what was Dick capable of? What if Dick was outside her place right now, hoping she’d come out and he could intimidate Lola’s address out of her?

  I had to tell her about Dick. I had to see how she took it when she found out that Dick was lying to them.

  I couldn’t wait because she might be in danger from that asshole. She had to know what she was dealing with right now so she could take steps to protect herself.

  I was on the street and nearly at the subway before I realized I needed to let Sierra know I was coming. I texted: Stay there. I’m coming to see you.

  Instantly, she replied: Why, what’s wrong?

  I couldn’t tell her by text. I had to see her when I told her. In subway now, I texted back.

  Only three stops in, I got out of the station and ran two blocks over to the G train in Broadway station. It was only six stops in all—ridiculously close—except for double fair and the need to go outside in a dicey neighborhood to change stations.

  Still, it was fast even though it was inconvenient. I was eager to tell Sierra about this easy way to get to her place from mine… and then realized that she probably wouldn’t be needing it once I confessed.

  When I got out of the underground G train, she had texted me her address. I didn’t like the looks of the five blocks between the subway station and her place. The trees blocked the street lights so there were lots of shadows. Cars were parked along the streets where anyone could lurk.

  I didn’t see anything suspicious on her street. But the address she had given me was a giant warehouse with a mural splashed across the lower half to discourage more random graffiti. I checked the number again, sure it must be wrong. But it wasn’t. I couldn’t imagine Sierra living in a place like this.

  The black door wasn’t latched closed, so I was able to walk right in from the street. That meant Dick could get in.

  I pulled it shut firmly behind me, making sure the automatic bolt engaged.

  Music floated down from the top floor. It was too dark in the stairwell, another strike against the place.

  The door to the second floor was locked, thankfully. I knocked.

  Sierra opened it. All I could see was her, as I gave her a tight hug. I hadn’t meant to touch her, but I couldn’t help myself. The short, floaty dress she wore with her bare feet was intoxicating. But it made the ace bandage on her ankle even more noticeable.

  I hadn’t banked on the affect she had on me. How could I tell her that Dick had betrayed her sister, knowing I was betraying her right now?

  When I released Sierra, a tall, black woman came closer. I realized she was trans. Another guy with crazy cork-screw curls was lying on one of the couches in the big room, grinning and waving as Sierra introduced them as Candice and Jake.

  “Did you know the door downstairs was stuck open?” I asked. “I was able to come right in.”

  “The jamb swells in the heat sometimes,” Jake said, still grinning.

  It irritated me that he was taking it so lightly. “Anyone could get in. Sierra was attacked by a guy last night who’s trying to find her sister.”

  “We know.” Candice gave Jake a hard look. “Go put a sign up reminding everyone to pull the door shut.”

  Still smiling, Jake went to do as she ordered.

  “What did you find out?” Sierra asked me. Candice crossed her arms, listening.

  “Dick’s not a cop,” I said. “The NYPD has no record of him working there.”

  Sierra’s dawning horror was even worse than I had imagined. It went over her in waves as more and more of his lies came back to her.

  “He brought Lola home in handcuffs!” Sierra exclaimed. “He said he could arrest her.”

  Candice didn’t seem to be as surprised. “Cops take people to jail in handcuffs. They don’t take them home.”

  Sierra’s mouth was still open in shock. “Are you sure, Victor?”

  “The civilian review board is sure,” Vic said.

  “I have to tell my sister.” Sierra started texting as she said, “I don’t know if she’ll listen to a message from m
e. I’m telling her: Dick isn’t a cop. He followed me last night and jumped me, trying to get your address. Call me.”

  Sierra pressed send, then clutching the phone silently, walked over to the couches. Candice watched after her, as did I. Sierra stood there staring into the other end of the loft, waiting for her sister to respond.

  Her phone rang and she answered it on the first ring. My heart sank at her broken voice as Sierra said, “Lola, I just found out that Dick isn’t a cop!”

  Like one, both Candice and I stepped closer. We couldn’t hear every word, but enough of Lola’s high pitched cursing came through to make it clear how mad she was.

  I felt like I was taking body blows, watching Sierra remember that first night when Dick had brought Lola home in handcuffs. Actually in handcuffs! And threatened her with jail. Sierra’s voice broke again at how she thought it was the most romantic thing that love at first sight had kept Dick from ruining Lola’s life.

  “He’s a jerk!” Lola shouted, loud enough to be heard through the phone. “I told you he was a jerk, but you kept telling me how nice he was to me. He wasn’t nice! He was jealous and he never wanted to do anything but keep me locked up in his crappy apartment.”

  Candice’s brows were raised high listening to them. Even Jake returned, and a washed-out blond woman was peeking out from the middle door in the row along one wall, as if drawn out by the noise. Sierra was so aghast by Dick’s betrayal that she didn’t know she was sharing it with everyone.

  “Lola, you have to report him to for impersonating a cop,” Sierra said into the phone to her sister.

  “No way!” Lola shouted, again loud enough to be heard. “I’m done with that screwball. And you better be, too!”

  “Lola! What if he comes after you?” Sierra listened for a moment. “Lola? Are you there?” She checked the phone. “She hung up on me.”

  “Honey, that is one dysfunctional relationship you have with your sister,” Candice told her.

  “I know,” Sierra agreed, stealing a glance over at me. “It’s better that we’re not living together anymore.”

  I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t make me the hugest hypocrite alive. It was already choking me, wrapping its monstrous tentacles around my throat, the knowledge that I was betraying her even worse than Dick. I was betraying myself by lying to her when I cared so much for her.

  I couldn’t take advantage of her anymore. I had to fix this.

  But I couldn’t confess now. Not when she was reeling in pain from this blow, and frightened of what it meant. Not when she was looking at me with such mute appeal to help her.

  I couldn’t hurt her now.

  I would make sure she was safe. I would help her through this. I would be a good friend, and show her that I cared. And I wouldn’t touch her again until I fixed this mess and I could kiss her with an honest heart.

  Chapter 24

  Sierra

  I suddenly realized that everyone was staring at me like I was a freak show—the Idiot Child on full display. Bound to destroy everything I touched through sheer stupidity.

  The fact that Victor looked so sorry for me, so distantly untouchable and full of pity, made it worse. I knew better than to talk to my sister in front of him. Didn’t our fight at the Festival teach me anything?

  No wonder Victor was just standing there. The litany of shit that was my life was spread out for him to see. Who wanted to take on that kind of mess? Especially a guy like him who could have anyone.

  To give him credit, Victor was honest about not being the savior type. He never liked me better than when I was taking care of myself. The way he had reacted to me at the Sanctuary had told me that.

  So I raised my chin, trying to shake it off. “I guess that’s all there is to it.”

  “We should report him for hurting you last night,” Victor told me. “He said he was a cop. I heard it.”

  That raised visions of the police arriving at the loft with their flashing lights as I gave them a statement. I could only imagine what Keith would say about that. He was a practical man and he wouldn’t like the new girl bringing the cops down on us the second week I was living here.

  I couldn’t be the kind of roommate who caused trouble. I didn’t want to make an awful situation worse than it already was. Dick was a by-product of the Lola implosion. I needed to put that safely in the past where it could burn to the ground without me. I didn’t want to drag it into my present, which was finally getting better.

  “No, I don’t want to report it,” I said. “Dick practically crawled off last night after you took him down. He’s out of our lives.”

  Victor appealed to Candice. “Don’t you think she should take it more seriously? Dick was shaking her last night—look at those bruises on her arms!”

  Candice took a long look at me. “Do you have pepper spray, honey?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll get you one of mine,” my roommate said, heading toward the second door from the front.

  As Candice left, Victor told me, “I think you should reconsider this.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly, glancing after Candice. “But not now.”

  He grudgingly accepted that. “How’s your ankle? Shouldn’t you sit down?”

  “Yes, I should. Why don’t I show you my room now that you’re here?” I drifted over to my door, the second to the last in the row.

  Victor joined me, but he still seemed a bit reluctant. I blamed the chaos I called my former life, and was ready to get past the bad news and concentrate on the fact that he had run over here to tell me I was in danger. Surely that proved he cared about me! My body was thrumming, remembering how it felt as he carried me to his place, literally sweeping me off my feet last night.

  I opened the door to my room, showing off its compact neatness. I had placed the single bed under the loft and lined it with cushions to make a wide couch against the window. The red chair was in the corner in front of the sheets that marked off a narrow closet. A little table along the wall served as my desk.

  I retreated inside to sit on my make-shift couch. I carefully massaged my ankle through the bandage. “That feels better. My day off is tomorrow, so I can rest it all day.”

  I had wondered what it would be like to have Victor here in my room. He dominated the space, making it seem even smaller.

  He was looking around in disbelief, even worse than I had feared. “Are you okay living here, Sierra?”

  “Sure, my roommates are nice. I’d show you the view from the roof but I don’t think my ankle could handle another climb.”

  Instead of coming to sit beside me, Victor came to kneel in front of me, gently picking up my foot. His hands sent a shiver up my body. He looked at me so tenderly, and his hands were careful.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  “I was going to put ice on it again before bed.”

  “I’ll get it,” he offered, standing up again.

  “I got a new ice pack on the way home. It should be cold by now. It’s in the freezer in the door.”

  I unwrapped the ace bandage from my ankle, realizing I should have done it as soon as I got home. It was throbbing from being bound all day.

  Victor brought back the pack and pulled up the little stool for me to rest my foot on. He wrapped the ice pack onto my ankle with a towel. It reminded me of last night when he cleaned me up. The scabs on my knees were still fresh. I was in pain in half a dozen different ways, but the feel of his hands on me, so tender and knowing exactly how to touch me, burned through my body. This was true masochism, loving the pain because of the pleasure that came with it.

  He looked up at me like he had a million things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t.

  I reached out and took his hand, drawing him close to sit next to me. I leaned in, fully expecting he would kiss me. I felt the pull between us. I wasn’t imagining it. We were breathing together, poised to close the separation between us.

  I sav
ored it, knowing it would make the kiss that much sweeter.

  Victor stopped. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  The tone of his voice made me sit back slightly. “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you now, not while you’re dealing with all of this.”

  “Why not?” I cocked my head. “Dick’s an asshole, forget about him. It’s my own fault for being gullible. And Lola’s, for being so stupid. How could she believe him for that long? You get what you deserve, right?”

  Victor stood up suddenly. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Victor?” I couldn’t understand what was happening. “Wait! I thought you wanted to tell me something.”

  “I’ll call you later,” he said, heading out of the room.

  Candice ran into him at the door, making me wonder how long my roommate had been lurking outside listening to us. “I’ve got the pepper spray, honey!”

  “Thanks, Candice.” I was looking at Victor. Suddenly my room felt chilly, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.

  “Hold it in your hand when you’re walking,” Victor ordered. “It’s no good when it’s in your purse.”

  I nodded. How could he sound so concerned when he was rushing to get away?

  “Say it,” he demanded in a low voice. “Say you’ll carry it.”

  “I’ll carry it,” I repeated, feeling that tug between us in his order and my obedience.

  Candice was looking between us with her eyes wide, like she could feel it, too.

  I started to stand up, but Victor said, “Don’t get up. That ice needs to stay on for twenty minutes.” He took the pepper spray from Candice and handed it to me. His fingers were hot. “Make sure and lock up after me,” he told Candice.

  With that, Victor was gone. Candice stared wide-eyed at me like she also couldn’t believe it, before following him.

  I strained to hear the sounds of Candice letting him out and locking up behind him. Then my roommate came back into my room. “What was that about?” Candice asked.

  I let the air out of me. “I wish I knew! I thought he was going to kiss me, and then he jumped up and left.”

  “I can tell he’s worried about you,” Candice said. “He couldn’t have been sweeter. Or more protective.”