TEAGAN IS ON SPEAKER-PHONE as I put on my makeup in my bedroom mirror.“So, what did you guys finally decide to do with Alissa?” I ask, putting on my eyeliner. I’m going with the smokey-eye look tonight. I figure since this will probably be our one and only date, I might as well play it up right. Mick is going to be speechless with lust. I wonder if I’m going to leave him hanging or indulge a little. Talking about Alissa kind of makes me lean in favor of not.“She’s going to stay here until further notice. She doesn’t want to talk much, though, so it’s kind of frustrating.”“What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk much?” I smudge the liner under my right eye. Perfection. I grin all vixen-like at my reflection. Mick is so going down.“She won’t say anything about the father or what his reaction is to the whole thing, so I have no idea if he’s even in the picture or knows what’s going on. And she says very little about her parents, other than they’re ultra religious and she’s now cons

“COLIN!” AN OLDER WOMAN SAYS in a very smokey voice. She’s just on the border of sounding like a frog; one thousand more cigarettes and she’ll be there. “So nice of you to come. Please, please, come in and meet our guests.”My jaw drops open as I take in the scene around me. All I can think is, Damn, good thing I did the smokey eye look tonight. Every single person in the art gallery is wearing black … every single person except Colin and me, that is. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt and I’m in my red top and bedazzled blue shorts that cost me a chunk of babysitting change. I would fit in perfectly at a date consisting of dinner and a movie with a hot mechanic. Here, I look like the cleaning crew. I sigh, knowing I either need to slink around in the shadows or just own this thing. I decide on the latter and raise my chin just a fraction of an inch.The cigarette lady smiles at me indulgently. “And who is your friend?” “This is Quin. She’s my brother’s girl and my biggest fan.”I’m too shoc

“TELL US WHAT HAPPENED,” REBEL says. His face holds no expression; I cannot tell if he’s for me or against me, so I assume the worst. It makes it hard for me to speak.I swallow with effort and finally begin the story after a couple false starts. “I was waiting for Mick to come get me, and then Colin showed up. He said he was there for Mick because Mick was going to be late.”Mick hisses out an angry breath, addressing his brother. “I fucking told you.” He shifts his attention to me. “Why’d you get in the car with him? You know he’s full of shit.”My back goes up in defense. “No, I don’t know that, actually.”I look at Teagan for support, but all she’s doing is seeing how close she can get her damn eyebrows to her hairline.“Don’t look at me,” she says.Disgusted with her playing the pansy, I glare at Mick. “Colin has never been anything but a gentleman with me.”“Except for the fact that gentlemen don’t kidnap people,” interjects Teagan.“Oh, so now you’re joining the party,” I say,

MY HEART IS BEATING SO hard it feels like it’s ready to leap out of my chest. Thank goodness I don’t have one of those bleeping monitors attached to me. Mick does, so I can tell he’s not as nervous as I am.“Hi,” I say, more eloquent words failing me at the moment. “Hi.”“How are you feeling?” I want to touch my hair again to try and gauge how awful it is, but I don’t dare call his attention to it. Instead, I take a piece of my sheet and start folding it into a tiny accordion. Keeping my fingers busy takes my mind off the mess I’ve made of my life recently.“Lighter,” he says.I pause in my folding and look over at him. “You feel lighter?” “Yeah. Seems like I left an organ behind in the operating room.”I smile a little. He’s making jokes. That has to be a good sign, right? “Does it hurt?” I ask. Guilt. Oh, the guilt!“Not as much as the car ride over did. I’ve got good drugs right now.” His words come out sounding tired, maybe a little bit slurred.“Sorry about that,” I say, my face

Everyone freezes. You could hear a pin drop in the room. But since there are no pins, we listen to Jersey’s ragged breathing instead.My mom straightens up and glares at me, abandoning her efforts with Jersey.“What?!” I say, probably too loudly. “What’d I do?”She points at me. “You’re the one who taught him that filthy language.” “Bullshit. Dad did.”My father’s eyes bulge out of his head and his hands fly up in surrender when my mom twists around to give him the dagger-eyes. “Hey … he didn’t learn anything from any of us he hasn’t already seen on TV. You know that, Viv. Just relax.”She throws her hands up to rest on her hips.I roll my eyes, knowing the poodle is about to hit the fan. Cardinal Rule #1 with my mom: Never EVER tell her to relax.“Don’t you dare, George. You know very well that Quinlan runs around the house all day with asshole-this and asshole-that and fuck-a-box-of-fuck-this and fuck-a-box-of-fuck-that. Her mouth is pure gutter talk.”I’m laughing silently with my