SUGAR BITES.

"Deal."

By the time I was ready for bed, I was dog bone tired and the knapsack that held a few things that people on the run would need was overstuffed, containing an old phnoe Hannah gave me before she left.

I couldn't contact anyone back home with Axe on the search and calling mom would be pointless. Most likely too high or drunk to even answer.

My closet had all the clothes I left in there, a few books and a hand-me down laptop from my cousin Gretchen that was still on the small desk. Everything was in place, exactly how I left it and now I regretted going to New York.

I had everything here, even a creazy perfectionist grandmother whose nicest words to me were 'You look like your mother,' which didn't count anymore since she was a junkie.

I stopped short when I saw my face in the mirror. Ungly purple bruises lined my chin, temple and cheek along with a black eye.

I should have known he was trouble from first glance, the tatts, the bikes, the drugs, but like a damn idiot I couldn't stay away. He was a regular at The Elite, came there every night while I was on shift, spent a lot of money, drank little or nothing.