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“You seem like you know what you’re doing,” I commented.

“My mom was a nurse.”

“Was?”

Andrew added another a silver of tape. “She quit when my sister and I were born. My dad was an old fashioned guy and believed the woman should stay home. You know? Cook, clean, only real role in life was to bear children.” The bitterness in his tone was evident. “My mom didn’t seem to mind but I know she missed nursing. Over the years, she kind of became the neighborhood nurse. All the kids and their parents used to come to her when something went wrong.”

Although, my hand throbbed, I would have shattered another picture frame to get a glimpse into his childhood that seemed so vastly different than mine.

“Your mom sounds like an amazing woman. What does your dad do?”

“He’s an inventor. I honestly have no clue what he invented because it’s complicated and convoluted. The NASA Space Program has him on retainer though.”

I whistled, impressed. “Damn. I’m guessing that brings in the big bucks.”

Andrew shrugged and inspected his handy work. A red spot bloomed on the gauze. He muttered something about me being more stubborn than a mule. Securing another layer, my hand took on the appearance of a mummy.

“What do your parents do?”

His question was unexpected yet shouldn’t have been. Conversations were a two way street. Wide-awake, I lifted myself into an upright position and contemplated how to tackle the inquiry.

“My mom was a mom and I have no idea who my dad is or what he does for a living.”

“Really? Your mom was a mom?”

There was nothing else for Andrew to know at this moment. We’d met less than twenty-four hours ago and besides, dark shadows sprung to life whenever I rehashed my past. Shadows I preferred to stay dormant.

“Fine but can you tell me one thing?”

“Depends.”

“What happened?” He gestured to my wound. “You and your sister seemed civil. If I knew otherwise, I wouldn’t have left you alone together.”

Raw hurt clawed its way up my throat as fresh tears sprung from my eyes. I still couldn’t believe the one person I trusted on this earth had betrayed me. Six months of hard work were now going to end up as poison in a needle.

“We were civil. Sumiko was the only family I had left.”

“So what she said was true? Your mom died?”

My eyes narrowed. “You were listening?”

Witnessing the fury in my expression, he held up his hands in surrender. “Your apartment is the size of a postal stamp. How could I not?”

“Easy. Don’t listen.”

“I know you’re angry but I’m not your punching bag, nor will I ever be. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw but his gaze remained steady and collected. He was the calm in the middle of a hurricane. A trait he had proved more than once tonight.

The fire seeped out of my belly and remorse set in. “Yes, my mom passed away a couple of months ago. She was a drug addict but didn’t touch harder stuff until the end, which was what killed her. Heroin overdose.”

The image of my mom lying in a pool of her own vomit popped into my head. She’d called me earlier that day after an extended amount of silence and invited me to lunch. I said yes because she swore she was clean. Looking back, I don’t think the overdose was an accident. She wanted me to find her because who else would? I swallowed a baseball-sized lump. Andrew’s stoic expression endured, which was a tremendous relief. I wouldn’t have been able to continue if it was anything but.

“I’m guessing you heard the rest of what Sumiko said?”

He nodded.

“Right, well there is… was,” I corrected, “five hundred dollars worth of savings I had hidden. Sumiko found it and took it. Now there is nothing.”

A crack formed in his armor. “Holy shit. She took it all?”

“Yup.”

A silence shrouded us as he processed everything I told him. It was a lot more than I normally divulged. Mallory and or any other guy I dated thought my parents died in a car accident. Very few people knew the real me—Monica was one and I was starting to believe Andrew would be the second. He exuded a trusting nature.

“Maybe what she said was true. Maybe she is just trying to protect you,” he said.

“For being a drug dealer, Big Ted wouldn’t hurt me or her. We are kind of like his surrogate daughters. My mom would leave us in the living room of his house whenever she scored, which was often.”

Andrew ran his hand over his face. “That’s so messed up.”

“It was.”

He moved from his chair next to my spot on the couch. Lifting my feet up, he set my legs over his. With his thumb, he massaged my arch and I nearly groaned in pleasure.

“You are an incredibly brave person, Haven. Don’t punch me when I say this but you are a survivor. What Sumiko did was awful but you will get through it. As corny as it sounds, there is light at the end of the tunnel.”

I was mesmerized by the unwavering faith he had in me. A girl he’d met less than a day ago who’d thrown him head first into her mentally unstable family. “How do you know that?”

“I just do.” He threw a blanket over me and tucked it around my body. “Now get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

Permission to sleep was all it took for my eyelids to flutter closed.

The intrusive early morning light came too soon. Birds chirped merrily outside, the opposite of my mood. A dull throb pounded inside my head. Emotional hangovers were worse than alcohol induced ones. Shivering, I reached for my blanket and grabbed air. One eye opened, then another. It took me a moment to remember why I was on the couch then I promptly wished to forget. My dream of leaving Detroit had been delayed by another three months, at least. Since I was five years old, my own personal rain cloud had followed me around. When was the sun going to shine?

“I made coffee.”

My body froze. Why hadn’t Andrew left yet? No guy in his right mind would stick around after the events of last night. My nightmares were known to merge with reality. Pinching the delicate skin on my wrist, I winced. Andrew’s footsteps drew closer. At the last minute, the discarded blanket was thrown over my head. I didn’t want him to witness my appearance without checking in a mirror first. Shallow? Yes, but I most likely bared a resemblance to Frankenstein’s third cousin. Andrew’s demanding presence overpowered my small living room. My arm shot out of the blanket and gestured for him to put the mug of coffee into my hand. He didn’t comply.

Laughter laced into his voice. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like a ghost is trying to steal my mug of coffee.”

Lifting a corner of the blanket, Andrew’s bare feet came into my line of sight. He crouched down on his knees and met my eyes warmly.

“Hi,” he said.

A piece of my heart chipped off, lost forever. “Hi.”

“Would you like me to get you a cup?”

Hot steam rose off the black liquid, fogging up his round glasses. He took them off, rubbed away the moisture with his t-shirt and put them back on. Andrew put Clark Kent to shame.

My chin dipped eagerly. “Yes, please.”

“Alright but when I get back that stupid blanket better be off your head.”

Since coffee was on the line, his demand was fulfilled. Whipping away the blanket, my thumb erased the black smudges underneath my eye. Before long Andrew reappeared with another mug. Of course, he brought a new definition to rumpled.

My hands wrapped around the mug. “What time is it?”

“Just after seven a.m.”

That was latest I’d slept in months. Andrew suppressed a yawn and shook away his grogginess. Poor thing probably didn’t get a wink of shuteye.