But now that she had nowhere to sleep . . . Her fingers traced over the face of her cell phone, and she considered texting Nick.

A metal door slammed, a little distance down the back wall.

Quinn saw a flare of light, then a cigarette glowed red. The light over the door was out, but from the person’s size, it looked like a guy. Dark clothes.

She pulled her hood down, tucking her blond hair more tightly under the covering.

It didn’t help. “Hey!” The sharp male voice made her head snap up. The musty scent of cigarettes burned her nostrils. He was coming toward her. “You can’t be out here.”

Quinn didn’t move. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

“And who are you, the owner of the parking lot?”

“No. The whole strip mall.”

Well, she hadn’t expected that answer. She still didn’t move.

“Prove it.”

“What, you want to see the deed?” He moved like he was going to grab her, and she scrambled off the crate, dusting grit from her clothes.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.”

He followed her, taking a draw from his cigarette, clearly planning to make sure she exited his property. When she reached the sidewalk running beside the 7-Eleven, she whirled, ready to lay into him for being an ass**le.

But here the light found his features. It was Tyler, the guy from Nick’s driveway. She thought of Nick’s revelations and knew she should be afraid of Tyler, but her life was overflowing with cruel people, and she didn’t carry that much adrenaline around with her.

“It’s you,” she spat.

“It’s you.” He put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled again.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He’s picking me up. He’ll be here any minute.” Just because she wasn’t afraid didn’t mean she was stupid.

“He was picking you up behind the 7-Eleven?”

Okay, maybe she was stupid. She gestured at the darkened storefronts lining the rest of the strip mall. “Why don’t you go back where you came from?”

“What are you doing out here, really?”

“None of your business.”

His eyes narrowed. “What happened to your face? Did that Merrick prick knock you around?”

He didn’t sound concerned, but he didn’t sound like an affir-mative answer would surprise him, either. “No. And don’t call him that.”

He huffed, blowing smoke through his nose. “You girls are all the same. You think those idiots are amazing and perfect and special. Well, you know what? They’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Charming. Clearly not everyone is up to your standards.” She stepped up and ripped the cigarette out of his mouth, intending to break it in half.

But it flared and burned to ash in her hand. Quinn shrieked and dropped it.

Tyler smirked. “You don’t know what you’re messing with, baby girl. With me or them.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I just wanted to talk to them, and you saw how that jerkoff treated me.”

“Yeah, and you were such a gentleman.” She swung a hand to shove him away.

He was too quick and grabbed her wrist. “Trust me, they’ve pushed me way past being a gentleman. Maybe I should get some answers from you.”

God, he was strong. She regretted trying to hit him. Her arm burned like he was pressing the cigarette between his hand and her skin. Quinn was gasping before she could stop it. Part of her wished she’d stayed in the apartment and tried her odds against her brother.

“Go ahead,” Tyler said. “Scream. I’ll tell them I caught you trying to break in.”

“Let me go,” she whimpered. The pain was immobilizing. He was pulling tears out of her, and she wanted to kill him for that.

“Let me go.”

“You think this is bad?” he said. “This is nothing. Just wait until you spend more time with them. Wait until you see what they do to you. They are killers. ”

Sweat bloomed on her forehead. “Okay. I get it. Lemme go.

Please.”

“I want to know what’s going on. You hear me? I want to know what really happened at that carnival, and I want to know what happened to the Guide that came to town to take care of it. You tell them I want answers. Got it?”

“Got it,” she whispered. The grip on her arm was the only thing holding her on her feet. She was going to pee her pants in a second.

“Good.” He let her go. Shoved her, really. She hit the ground, the impact jarring. She was lying where concrete met a bed of large, smooth stones surrounding the streetlamp. She’d probably have sixteen bruises tomorrow, just from this landing.

“Idiot,” he sneered.

She seized a rock and punched him in the side of the knee with it, throwing every ounce of strength into the motion. He swore as his leg gave out. He dropped like—well, like a rock.

Quinn swung her elbow around to jab him in the face.

His hand shot out to grab her, but Quinn was already running. Full out, as fast as her feet would go. Trees stretched along Ritchie Highway up ahead, a gaping pit of darkness full of un-seen dangers. Quinn scrambled through the underbrush, not caring about staying silent. She just ran.

Branches whipped her legs, but she didn’t slow. She stumbled twice. Then a third time, almost falling. Another branch whipped across her face, followed by a cloud of spiderwebs. Quinn screamed and beat at her face.