She was ready for him to stride across the apartment and shake her or slug her or physically shove her out the door. But he just stood there and took another long drink.

After a minute, he looked back at her. His voice was rough, but not aggressive. “Nice job, getting the conversation off of you.” He paused, and his expression turned resigned. “Tell the Merricks whatever you want. I know what I did—what I am. I can’t undo it.”

Quinn kept her breathing shallow, scared to move.

As usual with Tyler, she wasn’t sure whether he was a good guy or a bad guy. He’d helped her—more than once, and at risk to himself. What was she going to do—tell Nick about Tyler’s secret so these mysterious killers could kill more people? Turn Tyler in for saving her life?

But he was sitting here judging the Merricks for something he struggled with himself. That was the worst kind of hypocrisy, right? Hating someone for something you hated about yourself?

I never hurt anyone with this.

Did he really believe that? He’d burned her arm. He’d brutal-ized the Merricks—she knew that from Nick. Hell, he’d gone after Becca more than once.

Or did he think that was okay because his sister had died?

That because he hadn’t killed anyone, he somehow got a free pass?

Quinn pulled the sweatpants up her legs and walked into the kitchen.

“I’ll keep your secret,” she said quietly. “You were right. I was angry—I didn’t want—I don’t—”

Then her mother’s anger and violence overtook her, and Quinn started crying.

Tyler folded her into his arms and sighed against her hair.

“What a crazy, f**ked-up night.”

She laughed through her tears, sniffling against his shoulder.

“Tell me about it.” She hesitated. “Do you really think there’s a Guide in town?”

He took a long breath. “There have been a lot of fires. I’d be more surprised if there’s not a Guide in town.”

“And they’d kill you for saving me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He paused. “Did Merrick ever tell you what really happened at that carnival last week?”

She nodded against his chest. “Some of it. A girl named Calla Dean was trying to bring the Guides here. She wanted to start a war.”

Tyler drew back to look at her. “Calla Dean? I don’t know her. Her family wasn’t part of the original deal with the Merricks.”

Quinn swiped remnants of tears from her eyes. “You might not ever know her. She disappeared after the carnival. Nick said they don’t know if she was killed or if she ran. But there haven’t been any further arson attacks, so . . .”

She drifted into silence, letting the rest remain unsaid. Calla might not be dead, but she hadn’t made a reappearance in town.

Maybe she’d moved on to start her war somewhere else.

Tyler held her for the longest time, but when he finally spoke, his voice was careful. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but your mother—”

Quinn started to pull away. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you going to hide here forever?”

His voice was gentle, but it made her cry again. “I don’t know what to do. Would they arrest her? What would happen to me and Jordan?”

“I don’t know. But . . .” He paused. “She could have really hurt you, Quinn. Jesus, she did really hurt you. If she’d hit you a second time—”

“I’m not calling the cops. I’m not. If you want me to leave, fine. But I’m not—”

“Shh, take it easy. I’m not telling you to leave.”

“I just need a few days, okay? Let it blow over.”

Tyler stiffened. “You want to go back there?”

“She’s not always like that. If Jake is gone, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Tyler sighed.

“Please?” she begged. Then she winced. This reminded her of the night she’d been in Nick’s truck, begging him for a place to sleep, too.

“Okay,” Tyler finally said. “We can give it a few days.”

She turned her face up and kissed him.

Tyler pulled back. “Quinn. Stop.”

She froze, then jerked away from him. “Forget it,” she cried, feeling fresh tears on her cheeks. She punched him in the chest.

“Forget it. I don’t need charity from—”

He caught her wrists and pinned them behind her back. The motion was so quick, so rough, that she almost cried out. It put her right against his chest, staring up into his eyes. “What do you want?” he said. “Is this how every guy treats you, like you have to pay to play? Tell me, Quinn.”

“Didn’t you hear her?” she said. “This is all I’m good for.”

“It’s not,” he whispered. “I promise you, it’s not.”

“No one wants me. I can’t even make someone want me.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers.

“You poor, mixed-up girl.”

“Fuck you. If you don’t want me, then let me go.”

“You’re funny. You have no idea how hard it was to act honorably when you were parading around here in your under-wear.”

She snorted. “Like you know how to act honorably.”

He froze, then released her. He grabbed the beer from the counter and headed back to the living room. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s watch a movie. Grab some snacks if you want.”