9.

Adrian didn't get angry.

He lowered his hand and tugged at my collar instead.

"Why are you still wearing this? It's winter, and you're barely dressed. No wonder you got a fever."

Honestly, I'd never seen Adrian drunk.

I had no idea how sober he was right now.

It didn't matter.

I brushed his hand away and took another step back.

Then I returned the business card in my hand.

I tried to speak, but my throat was painfully dry.

I swallowed hard and let out a tired breath.

"What do you want from me, Adrian?"

Adrian didn't know what he wanted.

From the moment he'd rushed forward to catch Julian, his reason had walked straight out the door without looking back.

He didn't take the candy Julian offered.

He didn't answer the question either.

"You're not having any candy? Doesn't the medicine taste bitter?"

I stared at him.

What the hell?

Talking at cross-purposes like this was exhausting.

It felt like throwing a punch into a pillow.

I couldn't be bothered trying to work out what he was thinking anymore.

I turned sideways and pushed the candy into his hand.

"Thanks for taking pity on me, Mr. Mercer. If that's everything, I'll leave you to it."

I'd barely taken a step when his fingers closed around my wrist.

"It's still raining. Where are you going dressed like that?"

I glanced at him.

"What, are you going to charge me for staying the night too? That would be just like you."

His breathing stopped.

For a second, I hated the darkness in that living room.

I couldn't read his face.

Then, almost immediately, I was glad the lights were off.

He couldn't see my reddening eyes either.

His grip tightened.

"That's not what I meant. What I wanted to say was..."

He was having a hard time getting it out.

I waited patiently.

Mostly because I had no strength left to fight him. I'd rather save what little I had for the stairs and my bike.

Adrian exhaled slowly.

"Stop doing deliveries. I'll find you something easier. You won't be making less than you are now."

I stared for two seconds.

The bitterness inside me flattened out in an instant.

Then it contracted into something sharper.

I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

The sound cut through the quiet room.

10.

The day they sealed our front door, I was at the hospital confirming my mother's death certificate.

I had less than three hundred dollars left.

By the time everything was over, I couldn't even afford a patch of grass in front of a grave for her.

I sat on the front steps, holding the box with her ashes.

The sky wasn't feeling generous.

Rain poured down.

Even a passing dog barked at me.

Someone from the court told me I couldn't stay there.

I stood, stumbled, and scraped the skin off my knee.

My mother's ashes fell out of my arms.

The box sat all alone on the ground.

I stared at it.

Then panic seized me, and I lunged forward to shelter it beneath my body.

Through the curtain of rain, I stared helplessly at every passing car.

I wanted one of them to stop.

I wanted my older brother to get out.

None of them did.

The rain soaked my clothes and put out whatever fire was left in my chest.

I knew then.

In this world, I really only had myself.

It all flashed through my mind.

I couldn't keep smiling. My stomach cramped.

Then the rage came.

"Why the fuck do you think I'm doing deliveries? Now you want to find me a job? Am I supposed to thank you for your generosity?"

Adrian frowned.

He stepped closer and caught hold of me again, his voice tight.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

I finally looked at him.

Saw the panic and helplessness in his eyes.

I ran my tongue over the back of my teeth and laughed.

Then I pried his hand off me, grabbed his collar, and stared straight into his face.

"Do you really like being my dog that much? Running around finding me work now? What do you want? A pat on the head? Want me to tell everyone how generous you are? Forget it. You won't get a single compliment out of me."

Adrian bowed his head under the force of my grip.

He took a deep breath.

"Julian, we can talk about this."

"Talk? Who the hell do you think you are? You kick me when you're in a bad mood, give me two pieces of candy when you're feeling better, and I'm supposed to sit down and talk because I'm so grateful?"

"I don't think that."

The way he swallowed his words set off something vicious in me.

I gave him a nasty smile.

"Which