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Authors: Kelly Lynn Parra
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unmade, twisted blankets the only evidence of her hellish night. A few pieces of clothing still littered the scuffed wooden floors.
It didn’t look like Skates had made it here at all. Where was he? Would he risk her own spot in SIDE by getting her in trouble? He knew they both walked a thin line with Sarge.
Listen to me carefully, Switch. Sick or not, Skates better be back here tomorrow. Or both of you will be up Shit Creek, you got that?
She’d known Skates approximately two weeks—since he’d first set foot in the firehouse. Could anybody really get to know a person in such a brief time? Hell, she’d been in SIDE six months and she didn’t know the team from her own mother. Although that wasn’t saying much, since she could only recall glimpses of the woman.
For the first time, she found herself risking her freedom for someone and she didn’t understand why. Max was likely rolling over in his grave.
She remembered when he started preaching to her. She’d gotten into a fight at the girls’ home for trying to stop one of the older Latina girls from picking on a younger Asian girl. Even then she’d been tested, given a choice to either join a group of her own race by turning her back, or be shunned for choosing the wrong side.
Yeah, she’d helped the younger girl, but in Ana’s eyes, she’d chosen her own side.
The Latina girls had felt differently.
“Ana,” Max had said. “You want to survive in this damn city on your own, you gotta be tough. You gotta look out for numero uno .” It had always seemed strange when Spanish words were forced out in Max’s east coast accent. “Yourself. Don’t go helping people when you aren’t going to get anything in return. You have acquaintances, not friends. Hell, you don’t even got me. Understand?”
Ana at age seven, sitting in the visitor’s chair, feet dangling, her right eye black and blue, had simply nodded as Max’s words caused her throat to tighten.
But Max had been the only one to come to visit her, the only one who had taken the time to tell her about a father she couldn’t remember. So she’d had to make Max happy by doing as he asked or maybe he wouldn’t have visited her anymore and reminded her that someone had once actually loved her.
Ana’s cell vibrated. She blinked away the memory of Max and glanced at the number. Voice mail. It wasn’t official SIDE business. Sarge used texted codes.
She dialed voice mail.
“You have one message.”
She punched in her code.
“Switch, it’s Skates.” His voice sounded hesitant, not shaky like when she’d last seen him. “I didn’t make it to your place. I got sick halfway there.” He paused and she heard low voices in the background. A public place. A restaurant, maybe?
“I screwed up today and you helped me. Thanks.” There was something in his voice, as if maybe no one ever had. She knew the feeling. “I’m not going to let Doms scare me off.”
Oh crap. Another pause. Ana could imagine him taking a big swallow. “There’s something that pissed him off about me asking questions about the X, you know? I gotta check it out. I have to.” The last was said with such determination, Ana shook her head.
“End of messages. Press one to delete—”
She pressed to disconnect.
“Damn, Skates. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday
9:35 p.m.
Ana watched Digit apply strawberry red lipstick with an expert hand while using the wall-to-wall mirror in Zero’s ladies room. Like a veteran painter, natural and instinctive, she stroked on layers of color.
Ana didn’t usually wear cosmetics, but she knew she had to embellish her looks when a mission called for it. Her lips were colored with burgundy, her eyes lined, her lashes extended with mascara, and her body fitted in a long-sleeved spandex dress that cut just below her butt. She had the task of catching Saven’s eye.
It wouldn’t be easy standing out among the throng of leggy Caucasian women usually
It didn’t look like Skates had made it here at all. Where was he? Would he risk her own spot in SIDE by getting her in trouble? He knew they both walked a thin line with Sarge.
Listen to me carefully, Switch. Sick or not, Skates better be back here tomorrow. Or both of you will be up Shit Creek, you got that?
She’d known Skates approximately two weeks—since he’d first set foot in the firehouse. Could anybody really get to know a person in such a brief time? Hell, she’d been in SIDE six months and she didn’t know the team from her own mother. Although that wasn’t saying much, since she could only recall glimpses of the woman.
For the first time, she found herself risking her freedom for someone and she didn’t understand why. Max was likely rolling over in his grave.
She remembered when he started preaching to her. She’d gotten into a fight at the girls’ home for trying to stop one of the older Latina girls from picking on a younger Asian girl. Even then she’d been tested, given a choice to either join a group of her own race by turning her back, or be shunned for choosing the wrong side.
Yeah, she’d helped the younger girl, but in Ana’s eyes, she’d chosen her own side.
The Latina girls had felt differently.
“Ana,” Max had said. “You want to survive in this damn city on your own, you gotta be tough. You gotta look out for numero uno .” It had always seemed strange when Spanish words were forced out in Max’s east coast accent. “Yourself. Don’t go helping people when you aren’t going to get anything in return. You have acquaintances, not friends. Hell, you don’t even got me. Understand?”
Ana at age seven, sitting in the visitor’s chair, feet dangling, her right eye black and blue, had simply nodded as Max’s words caused her throat to tighten.
But Max had been the only one to come to visit her, the only one who had taken the time to tell her about a father she couldn’t remember. So she’d had to make Max happy by doing as he asked or maybe he wouldn’t have visited her anymore and reminded her that someone had once actually loved her.
Ana’s cell vibrated. She blinked away the memory of Max and glanced at the number. Voice mail. It wasn’t official SIDE business. Sarge used texted codes.
She dialed voice mail.
“You have one message.”
She punched in her code.
“Switch, it’s Skates.” His voice sounded hesitant, not shaky like when she’d last seen him. “I didn’t make it to your place. I got sick halfway there.” He paused and she heard low voices in the background. A public place. A restaurant, maybe?
“I screwed up today and you helped me. Thanks.” There was something in his voice, as if maybe no one ever had. She knew the feeling. “I’m not going to let Doms scare me off.”
Oh crap. Another pause. Ana could imagine him taking a big swallow. “There’s something that pissed him off about me asking questions about the X, you know? I gotta check it out. I have to.” The last was said with such determination, Ana shook her head.
“End of messages. Press one to delete—”
She pressed to disconnect.
“Damn, Skates. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday
9:35 p.m.
Ana watched Digit apply strawberry red lipstick with an expert hand while using the wall-to-wall mirror in Zero’s ladies room. Like a veteran painter, natural and instinctive, she stroked on layers of color.
Ana didn’t usually wear cosmetics, but she knew she had to embellish her looks when a mission called for it. Her lips were colored with burgundy, her eyes lined, her lashes extended with mascara, and her body fitted in a long-sleeved spandex dress that cut just below her butt. She had the task of catching Saven’s eye.
It wouldn’t be easy standing out among the throng of leggy Caucasian women usually
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